


Loki, the Prince of Two Realms

by DeathScribe



Series: Alternate Alignment [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming of Age, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, It's Thor Dark World with Kid Loki, Kid Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathScribe/pseuds/DeathScribe
Summary: Time has passed and Loki has come to accept his Jotun heritage. His family is safe and all is well. But with a historical Jotun delegation called by the new Frozen Realms King, can Loki bring his two worlds together or will unforeseen forces rip his whole life apart?
Relationships: Frigga | Freyja & Loki & Odin & Thor (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja & Loki (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja/Odin (Marvel), Jane Foster/Thor, Loki & Odin (Marvel), Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Series: Alternate Alignment [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1475522
Comments: 25
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Guys
> 
> Welcome to the third story in this series. For anyone who might be new PLEASE READ THE FORST TWO STORIES IN THIS SERIES. It might be difficult for you to understand what is going on if you don't
> 
> With that out of the way I have finally been able to get this up on here. I've been writing it out for a while but due to life I haven't been able to get it to a place where I felt comfortable posting. 
> 
> I'm going to admit that this time updates might be slow, but bare with me, I will get through it. I hope you all enjoy this story as I had a lot of encouragement to continued.
> 
> I'm not going to drag this out but please drop a comment and kudos, I love hearing from you and I will try my best to reply to any questions you might have. I hope you enjoy this first chapter of Loki, the Prince of Two Realms.
> 
> Cheers

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 1 **

Loki panted as he ducked behind one of the few remaining statues that hadn’t been blasted apart. Couching low he took the time to catch his breath, only to mutter a curse as the head of what he thought was once a Light Elf of Alfheim, suspended in stone form as they strummed a harp, was sent careening from its pedestal to land somewhere in the wide open lawn that made up one small portion of the Queen’s gardens.

Diving aside, Loki summoned his seidr, ready to retaliate with a blast of his own. Knees bent and ready he turned to see nothing, only the numerous beautiful flowers that created twisting patterns in the soil beds which lined the lawn. A hand caressed the back of his neck, along with a sting of a mild electric spell. Loki yelped.

“Always watch your rear Loki. Someone will always be coming up behind you.”

“Mother,” the groan at the long familiar lecture only had his Mother laughing. Dropping his pulsing seidr Loki turned to look up at Frigga. The Queen of Asgard was not dressed in her usual regal attire. Gone were the usual white silks and gold brocade, instead she wore simple brown leathers and light gold armour. He could see the glint of small daggers, sharpened to perfection strapped to a belt at her waist. While her hair was twisted up, so it sat on her head in a weave of delicate braids.

It had been quite a shock to Loki when his Mother had first begun his serious instruction in battle seidr one Midgardian year ago. He had never seen his Mother in anything other than her court finest. Seeing her as dressed as a warrior had been quiet the image to digest and if he was being brutally honest, he might have underestimated her. But now, after months of being on the receiving end of his Mother’s skill, power and cunning, he could understand why his Father always ended up agreeing with her.

Loki pouted in the face of his Mother’s amusement. “It’s not fair, you always manage to sneak up behind me.”

“You will learn with more experience, my son. Though I do hope you wait a couple more centuries before you burden me with more grey hairs.”

Loki looked away sheepishly. His Mother always took the opportunity, no matter how subtle, to remind him of his trip to Midgard. It was hard to believe it had been on year ago, by Midgardian time that is. Of course, the Young Prince didn’t look as though he had aged a day, but inside he knew was a different story. His fear and uncertainty over his Jotun roots didn’t plague his thoughts, he knew that his family and friends accepted him and for now, that was enough. His place within his family was assured, he was confident in his parents and brother’s love for him and it gave him stability and confidence he didn’t realise he lacked.

“Another round?” Loki asked. Frigga shook her head.

“Unfortunately not. Your Father has asked that I attend the Council of Nine this afternoon and I do not think they would be prepared to see their Queen like this.”

Loki sniggered, remembering the look on his Father’s face when his Mother had come down to breakfast in her leathers for their first lesson. Odin had gaped at her, shocked, before he had gathered himself enough to rush to his feet and pull out his Queen’s chair, his eyes never once leaving her, not even when he spilled porridge down his front.

“They would be terrified,” Loki said to which Frigga smiled warmly before it sunk away to be replaced with a far more uncertain look.

“We are to go over the final plans for when the delegation is to arrive.”

“The Jotunheim delegation?” Loki asked, making sure to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“Yes, my son. Are you sure you -?”

“I want to be here,” Loki said stubbornly.

“I know, I know, but are you sure you want to be at the initial meeting. You don’t have to face them now if you do not wish to.”

Loki bit his lip, even though he had come to accept he was Jotun, or Jotgardian as Thor liked to say, it was another thing to come to terms that he had been left to die as an infant.

It had been something which he had pushed to the back of his mind before. When Odin had told him the story, two years ago now in the weapons vault, the circumstances of his Father finding him had gone over his head. But now, two years on, with more time to process the news he had come to realise that he hadn’t just been left there by accident.

A light touch on his arm had Loki startled, but he didn’t protest as he was pulled into a gentle hug. He was stiff a moment before he relaxed into his Mother’s embrace, enjoying the way her fingers carded through his hair.

“It seems I lost you to your thoughts,” she said softly. “Care to share them?”

Loki breathed in the familiar comforting scent of his Mother, allowing it to sooth his mind. “It’s nothing.”

“Loki.”

“It’s nothing bad,” he reiterated. “Just … I’m nervous.”

“That is fine.”

“I want to see them. I think I need to, but I just keep remembering … remembering …”

Frigga squeezed him tighter and Loki was grateful. He still couldn’t shake the vision of Laufey out of his mind. Ready to cut him down.

It was something that he still had trouble processing, that the being that had been so ready to kill him in his parent’s bedchamber two Midgardian years ago was his sire. Someone he could have, maybe in another life, called Father. He was the son of King Laufey of Jotunheim, now dead at the hands of the traitor Erling, ex-Speaker of the Council of Nine, himself now dead after his attempt of a coup on the royal family of Asgard. Loki had researched a little on Jotun’s, Eir had made it part of what she called his recovery and his Mother had made sure to hand him books that were accurate and didn’t contain any victory propaganda that sometimes littered certain historical texts on Asgard. But after the events of last year. Finally stopping Amora, working with the Midgardians, the Avengers, to stop her invasion of their realm, Loki had done some of his own digging, especially into his sire.

The reading had been difficult to swallow. Laufey was a warrior king, much like Odin in his youth, descended from Ymir, the Jotuns ancient ancestor. He’d ruled with an iron fist, glorifying strength and power, though the other realms praised far more the Jotuns jewellery, gems and craftsmanship. Many had commissioned Jotuns to design and create many delicate works for them, one even a palace. But Laufey had a thirst to expand the glorious Jotun empire further than their realms boarders. Of course, Loki was well aware how that panned out and the destruction of Jotunheim in the war that followed was Laufey’s price for his pride. That was where the books became murky and the once praised artistry of the Jotuns was lost to memory. Though in all of his readings, Loki had yet to come across any mentions of Jotuns as small in stature as he. There were brief recordings of Jotuns that didn’t reach average height, though still towered over most of the other peoples of the Nine realms. Or those that were taller. They were spoken of in awe for their strength and speed. But none about small Jotuns.

Frigga pulled him closer. “I know my darling. I cannot understand fully how you must feel. But I hope you do not think that all Jotuns are the same as Laufey.”

“It is his son who is coming, isn’t it?” Loki hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic, but he couldn’t help it.

Once Laufey had been killed, Jotunheim had descended into civil war. It was something that all the other realms had not seen coming. The line of succession had been clear. Laufey had left two sons, the eldest around Thor’s age, the other not much younger. Both fully grown and fully capable of taking the throne.

Frigga tugged his hair. “I think you know better than that, my son. Besides, the new king, Helblindi may be Laufey’s son, but it seems he does not share his Father’s more volatile attitude. Why else would he want to come to Asgard with a delegation?”

Loki sighed; it was true. The civil war had not been about the succession. Laufey, though not a popular king among the mass populace of his realm had many supporters in his court. From what Loki could understand the Jotun court was made up of Jarls, each owning and governing their own land and who swore fealty to the next ruler of Jotunheim upon their succession. Though the monarch didn’t necessarily need the endorsement of the Jarls to rule it guaranteed stability for the realm as a whole, even if it wouldn’t save them from the Jarls scheming. Loki had seen and heard his Father complain of the Lords in his own court not to realise that there were manipulators in the upper echelons of every realm.

Especially when it came to those who curried a Kings favour. On Jotunheim those Jarls whom the King liked got favours, such as less tax, more money for reconstruction and easier access to food supplies in winter. While those that weren’t were left on the fringes, working together or alone in order to survive what came at them.

The Jarls that were behind Laufey felt that Helblindi was not fit to be King and had not sworn fealty when he was crowned. According to some Helblindi had tried to reason with them, a far more diplomatic approach than what his Sire would have done. The messengers had come back slaughtered and Helblindi had had no choice but to declare war.

It had been brutal, the king’s younger brother, Bylister, had been slain and many Jotuns were killed. But in the end Helblindi had routed the decentres and secured his place on the throne. Which was why it came as such a surprise that the first thing he announced upon the civil wars end was his wish for a delegation to come to Asgard. The first since before the Great War, long before Loki was born. 

Loki mumbled something agreeable into Frigga’s chest, which got him one final hair tweak before she pulled away.

“I must best get going darling. You know how the Councils twittering irritates your Father if he is left alone with them too long.” Loki giggled, and Frigga smiled, reaching out with her hand to take Loki’s wrist.

Loki winced as he felt seidr run through his system. It was soft and light, his Mother’s seidr would never hurt him, but it caused his own to coil and hiss as it was restricted and black lines, like a tattoo emblazoned themselves on his skin. It reminded Loki of the patterns he saw when the Ancient One cast her seidr, but finer, more delicate, just like all his Mother’s seidr was.

She eyed it critically. “Is there any pain?”

“No, but I don’t like it.”

“You should have thought about that when you went off and nearly got yourself killed,” Frigga said, and Loki hung his head. He knew that his punishment could have been a lot worse for what he did. Running away, getting involved in an invasion. Having his seidr restricted, though irritating and cause his seidr hum under his skin like a swarm of angry bees, was the least at what could have been done to him.

“I know, Mother. I’m sorry.”

Frigga nodded, running her fingers over the marks one last time. Then she bent and kissed his head before turning to walk back through the gardens and towards the palace.

Loki stayed for a moment longer, allowing the little seidr he still had access to, to calm before he finally couldn’t ignore the time and returned to the palace himself.

The Queen’s gardens could only be accessed through Frigga’s private quarters. She shared a bedchamber with her husband the King, but she had her own lounge, sitting room and study. The first of those rooms was what Loki walked into, through the wall length arch ways, which were protected by seidr to keep out the elements.

“H…how was your t…training P…Prince Loki?”

Loki sighed, “I told you before, just to call me Loki, Leif.”

“B…but -?”

Loki smiled in fond exasperation as he looked upon his Valet. Leif had grown taller since their journey to Midgard, having put on muscle with the training Loki had made sure he had received, even when Leif had protested. Loki had not been swayed however, Leif was a natural with a sword and his eye for terrain and maps was something that should be cultivated. Tyr had been especially impressed when Loki, after suffering another harsh spear lesson with the old General, had shoved Leif in front of him with a map and ran. With that Leif had a valuable ally in his corner and Tyr was not a man who would leave talent alone. It gave Loki vindictive pleasure to see his Valet return from a lesson sweaty but elated.

But even with all the opportunities opening before him Leif refused to leave his position as Loki’s Valet. It made something warm curl in Loki’s chest, something that months ago he would only have associated with his family. It was truly strange, but it was nice to have a friend. That in itself was still such a foreign word. Loki had not really had any friends. With the noble children, few as there were, their interest had never truly been to be his friend, only wishing to use him to further their own ambitions, or their families plans. With Leif, Loki knew with certainty that the boy wanted nothing but his companionship and it was something Loki cherished.

Finally taking pity, Loki cut off Leif’s indignant stuttering to ask about the days schedule as he moved to walk out of the Queen’s quarters and to his own, wanting to change out of his sweaty leathers.

“The K…king and Queen will be in the Council m…meeting for the remainder of the afternoon,” Leif said as he walked a pace behind Loki, much to the Young Prince’s irritation, but Leif was not one to be bending protocol that much, at least not where the rest of the staff could see and report it to his Mother. He fumbled with the parchment he kept in the top pocket of his tunic. Loki grinned as he glanced back, catching sight of his household symbol in pride of place on Leif’s breast pocket. Silver stitching glinted in the sun, finely sewn into the shape of two snakes twisting around each other so that they swallowed the others tail, creating an S shape. “You have t…time for lunch, then lessons.”

Loki groaned which made Leif giggle. Sending his friend a smirk, he sighed. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Indeed not my P…Prince.”

The pair made it to Loki’s quarters, Leif opening the door so that Loki could enter his own small sitting room, that would lead off to his bedchamber and bathroom. Loki crossed to one of the small couches and flung himself across it.

“Sure you don’t want to run off into town again?” he asked slyly as Leif closed the door. “I’ll say it was all my idea?”

“We shouldn’t r…risk it,” Leif squeaked. “Not after l…last time.”

“It was exciting.”

“The K…King shouted at u…us.”

“He does that.”

“He’s scary,” Leif shook his head. “I t…thought he would s…smite me when you came back with a twisted a…ankle.”

Loki grimaced, that had been his own fault. He had managed to convince Leif to sneak away into town instead of going to lessons one afternoon two months ago. It had been amazing, running around with the regular populace of Asgard, seeing what it was like to live on the streets of their realm. No one had bothered them, thanks to Loki’s seidr he’d been able to disguise them easily enough. But as they had wandered through the market, Loki had spotted a pair of unscrupulous looking characters. They’d hovered by one of the stalls, making sure to pick up plenty of items, but buy nothing. As he watched one pick up a large gold vase, distracting the vendor by asking a question, he saw the other reach out and snatch some of the jewellery on the other end of the stall, slipping it into his pocket.

Loki had reacted on instinct, shouting out and casting a freeze spell at the thief who still had a hand in his pocket. The other, completely surprised by the sudden turn of events turned, only to be confront by Loki, who was running over, ignoring Leif’s shouts and the agitated crowd. Seeing his partners frozen state, he’d done the only thing he could think of, throw the vase right at Loki. Loki had been so focused on catching the thief that he didn’t register the vase until it hit him in the chest. It had rocked his balance, but not as much as when it fell to the ground and Loki’s legs had tangled with it. Loki had felt his ankle twist, it sent a rush of pain through him, which was enough to dislodge his spells, one that kept the thief frozen and the other on his and Leif’s appearance.

In the end, the crowd had been so shocked at the sudden appearance of their Young Prince that the two thieves got away. While Loki ended up with a twisted ankle and a lecture from his Father on sneaking off and avoiding responsibility.

“Well, it might not have ended as I hoped.” Leif snorted and Loki shrugged. “At least Eir and Sigyn won’t be here to make it worse this time.”

“They healed y…your ankle.”

“After they both laughed and made sure to tell me how stupid I was,” Loki pouted. If he was being honest being carried into the healing hall and being left at the mercy of Sigyn and Eir had been the worst part of the whole experience.

“W…when will they r…return?” Leif asked.

“Not until at least another three months,” Loki said. Both boys shared a sad smile, though really, they should be happy for their friend. Sigyn was a Healers Apprentice, or more specifically she was Eir’s, the Head Healer’s, Apprentice. She had shared in the boy’s adventure to Midgard and was now one of Loki’s few friend, even if she was bossy and could be highly annoying at times. But she was loyal and would always have his back in a fight. A month ago, Eir had requested if she could take a short retreat to Vanaheim, to brush up on new healing techniques and check on a few former Apprentices. Loki’s Father, the King, had granted it and Loki had at first been pleased to get rid of the old battle axe, that is until he realised that Sigyn was going with her.

Of course, the girl had been thrilled, already excited to visit the healing halls of Vanaheim and see new, experimental healing spells up close. Loki had tried to be happy for her, never showing his upset. Even on the day she left he made sure to smile. He would miss her and didn’t want her to go, but he needed to be happy for his friend. But it hurt, especially since she couldn’t write to them. Luckily Eir sent reports to his Mother and Loki was well aware where Sigyn was and by the sounds of it, she was having the time of her life.

“We should get r…ready for your lessons this afternoon, Prince Loki,” Leif said. “Y…you will be able to join your p…parents for the evening meal.”

Loki nodded and stretched, easing out the kinks in his back. Then he retreated to the bathing chamber, striping off his clothes so he could enjoy a hot soak before returning to the grind of lessons.

***

Loki was already eating when both his parents arrived for their traditional family meal. Loki made sure to smile when his Mother kissed his cheek and scowl when his Father ruffled his hair when he stood to greet them.

Odin laughed as Loki swatted his hand away, pulling out his Queen’s chair before taking his own seat. Loki huffed as he sat back down, pulling his plate before him to pile with a collection of meats, bread and cheeses that had been laid out by the servants.

“How were your lessons today, my son?” Odin asked.

“They were fine, Master Davyn says that I’m almost ready to move onto the higher-level equations.”

“Ah, mathematics,” Odin sighed. “I never was really able to wrap my head around them, especially at your age.”

“Too busy taking blows to the head on the training ground.”

“Frigga,” Odin groaned as Loki and his Mother laughed. Odin continued to moan, but Loki could see the humour behind it. He enjoyed when his family could be like this, relaxed and carefree, away from the rigors of royal life. Though his smile dipped as he caught sight of the empty seat across from him.

“Have you heard at all from Thor?” he asked.

“You know that getting communication is difficult,” Odin said.

“I know, but he is still on Vanaheim is he not?”

Thor had been away from Asgard for a few months now. To be honest he had left not long after they had all returned from Midgard. With the invasion and the Bifrost still not completely repaired, the Nine realms had suffered instability. Dark factions which had been lurking beneath the surface of many realms had seen, with Asgard cut off and unable to send support to many of the realms, as a time to strike. Marauders and would be conquers had sprung up across the Nine and Asgard had had to respond.

Luckily the Bifrost was in such a state that it could be used, but sparingly. Thor, with his new responsibilities, had taken it upon himself to stop the fighting, which was rapidly spreading across the realms. Odin had agreed and Thor, along with Frandral and surprisingly Sif, Hogan and Volstagg, had been sent along with a battalion to stop the fighting, by any means necessary.

Loki had not been happy when it had first been announced, but he had swiftly been put in his place by his Father, Mother and Thor himself.

_“I am the Crown Prince,” Thor had said as he held his little brother close as they said goodbye at the Bifrost bridge. “It is my duty to care for all of the Nine. I cannot hide from that responsibility anymore.”_

Loki had wished with all his heart that he could have found an argument to that statement, but it was impossible, and everyone knew it. Thor was to be King of Asgard and with that role came the responsibility of guarding and nurturing all of the Nine realms. For years Thor had downplayed the role, only believing in the glory that being King would bring him and the battles he would fight. Loki was proud that his brother was finally taking his role seriously and with a measure of wisdom, but that didn’t mean he liked his brother being away for so long.

“Aye, he is,” Odin said, taking a bite of his bread and slowly chewing. Loki jittered in his seat as he waited for his Father to speak more. Odin looked at him and raised his remaining eyebrow. “Yes Loki?”

“Father.”

“Stop teasing the boy, Odin,” Frigga huffed, but a smile played around her own lips.

“You have to ruin all of my fun, don’t you dear.”

“That is what a wife is for,” she said, then turned to Loki. “Thor has sent a letter, it arrived during the afternoon Council session. He says that the last of the marauders on Vanaheim have been dealt with and he will be coming home.”

Loki blinked, then jumped up from his seat happily, though his action up ended his plate, sending it to the floor. It only being saved from a broken fate by Frigga’s quick use of seidr so it floated, along with the food stuffs just above the floor.

“Loki,” Odin started to scold, but Loki ignored him, leaning over the table towards his Mother.

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Frigga said, her seidr directing the plate and food back to the table. Once down she sent an annoyed look to her over eager son. Loki quickly quailed and sat back down with a sheepish grin. “Heimdall will bring them back through the Bifrost. Fortunately, it is in much better repair than when he left, so it should be easily done.

“His timing is fortunate,” Odin said. “The Jotun delegation will be arriving the day after; it will be good to have the extra support in case things go astray.”

Loki stiffened and Frigga sent Odin a reproachful look. The old King hesitated under his wife’s glare and turned to his son in concern. “Not that they will. I am sure that the Jotun’s have nothing but peaceful intentions. I only meant that having Thor here would allow us to face this as a family. All of us together.”

Loki swallowed, mustering up a smile. “Right, of course.”

Neither Odin nor Frigga appeared convinced by his show of confidence and he was sure his Mother would be having words with him again later when she came to bid him goodnight.

“Do you think we will be able to go and greet Thor when he arrives tomorrow?” Loki asked in a hope to change the topic.

“I don’t see why not,” Frigga mused, looking to her husband, who grimaced.

“I’m afraid I will have to miss it. More meetings are scheduled, the Council seem determined to keep me pinned to the throne room.”

“Then Loki and I can go,” Frigga smiled and Loki returned it. “It will be good for Thor to be greeted by his family upon his return.”

“Be sure to remind the boy he is to come to the throne room to give his report,” Odin said. “I swear he purposefully forgets.”

“You’re one to talk Odin. Why I remember you deliberately avoiding your Father for five days so you wouldn’t have to explain why your men were missing most of their armour as they had shed it to flee from a rampaging dragon on Alfheim.”

“Frigga!”

Loki giggled as he watched his parents tease each other. It would be good for Thor to finally return; he had missed his brother. And he couldn’t help but feel a little more secure with the knowledge that Thor would be here when the Jotun’s arrived. Just in case.

***

The next morning, Loki got up and washed with the help of Leif, who then escorted him to a quick breakfast with his Mother, before disappearing to attend to his other numerous duties. The Valet had been pleased to hear about Thor’s return, apparently his brother’s household staff were already preparing for his arrival and it was causing quiet the uproar with the servants. Especially with all if their demands that the kitchen make all of Thor’s favourite dishes at every meal.

Loki enjoyed the time with his Mother, Odin having already eaten earlier. Once done they set off together with a small escort of einherjar, to the Bifrost. They had stopped off at the stables to claim their horses first. Loki’s mare Aster had grown quite a bit and Loki needed a little boost in order to get upon her back. Frigga’s horse was pure white, with shiny black hoofs that stood out as they made their way through the central city of Asgard and towards the Bifrost. Loki enjoyed the trip, watching and taking in the sights and smells of a part of Asgard that he rarely got to experience. Of course, he’d come into town before, Frigga had always made it a point for them to come and mingle with the people at festivals and during large markets. But in recent years, with Loki spending more time in lessons and Thor fully grown, they had not been able to come to town as often. It probably explained why Loki enjoyed sneaking down with Leif, when he could convince his Valet they would get away with it. He missed the buzz and excitement of it all.

Some folk waved at them as they passed, others stared in awe. Loki watched with a warm smile as his Mother waved and smiled. Loki knew that his Mother was beloved by most of the people of Asgard, and he completely understood why. She was kind, regal and always did what she thought was best for her people. He’d heard some of the older folk whisper that it was her that had tempered Odin when he was young. That she had set him on the path to become the King he was today. Loki didn’t truly understand what they had meant, nor why they had appeared so frightened when some of the children had tried to probe further, quickly changing the subject. But Loki could understand what they meant by his Mother’s influence on his Father. He wasn’t sure what his Father would do without her. 

Their party arrived and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Loki, even with his seidr repressed could still feel the sheer power within the construction. It had been fully repaired, nearly two years after it had been blasted apart during the coup and Loki could feel where the new seidr joined with the more ancient veins that made up the Bifrost.

The void beckoned, black and foreboding beneath them, and Loki was grateful when they made it to the observatory.

“Please wait out here and take care of the horses,” Frigga said as she dismounted. Loki was quick to do the same, not wanting to have to get help from one of the einherjar, who looked ready to pluck him from his saddle. He slipped down Asters side, giving her a pat and murmur of thanks. Loki crossed to his Mother, who tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear before turning and walking into the observatory.

“Your Majesty, Prince Loki, welcome.”

“Many thanks Heimdall,” Frigga nodded regally to the Gatekeeper. Loki sent Heimdall a cheeky wave, which only earned him an impassive golden stare. Heimdall had been Gatekeeper of the Bifrost long before Loki or even Thor were born. He was tall with ebony skin and the gold all seeing eyes that watched over the Nine realms. His large sword horfund was strapped to his back and was the key to the Bifrost. Loki knew Heimdall was responsible for sounding the alarm if Asgard was attacked and was one of the first lines of defence for the realm. Loki had never seen Heimdall fight, but then again, there had never been any invasions of Asgard in centuries and with their power he doubted that there would be.

“Can you see Thor,” Loki asked as the Mother and Son pair came closer. Heimdall’s lips twitched upwards a little at Loki’s eagerness. His face turned blank and after a few silent moments he said.

“Indeed, he and his closest are getting ready to call.”

“Will the Bifrost be able to bring the whole of the battalion back at once?” Frigga questioned.

“It should, my Queen,” Heimdall said. “The repairs have been completed and I must say that the Bifrost is working better than it had before. I sense your handy work with the improvements.”

“I simply added to the great work of better seidr users than I,” Frigga waved a hand airily. “We should always try to build upon the past in order to help ourselves grow.”

Heimdall suddenly stiffened. “Prince Thor calls. Please step back.”

Frigga took Loki’s shoulder and urged him away. Heimdall crossed to a large console, taking hofund from his back and slotting it into place. Carefully he turned the sword, which opened a swirling portal of seidr on the other side of the room.

Loki watched it carefully, waiting with bated breath as Heimdall finished directing the Bifrost. Suddenly a bright light engulfed the room before it vanished and five Asgardians were stood in the observatory.

“Mother! Loki! ‘Tis good to see you both!”

“Thor!” Loki called waving his hand, though his gesture was eclipsed by Thor, who had strode across the distance between them and swept his little brother up into a fierce hug.

“Thor! Put me down.” Loki, even as he protested still allowed himself to indulge in his brother’s scent. A mixture of ozone and rain, with a tint of hot ground after a summer rainfall.

Thor laughed and finally placed Loki down. It still irked Loki that he still had to look up to his brother, though he was grateful it wasn’t as much as he used to. Thor’s long blonde locks were still the same, though appeared sweaty and run through with dirt. Two braids sat at Thor’s temples, keeping his hair out of his eyes. The familiar silver armour looked battered, along with Thor’s signature red clock, though Mjolnir shone as bright as ever. Even though his clothes, as worn as they were, appeared to be the same, Loki could see a profound difference in his brother’s face. Not in age, it would be a few centuries more before Thor’s features altered, but his eyes, while still bright and sparking with power were aged with wisdom that hadn’t been there before.

A large hand landed on Loki’s head and ruffled his hair playfully.

“I would almost say you hadn’t missed me, little brother,” Thor said, his smile still visible behind his beard, which was in the immediate need of a trim.

“Of course not,” Loki huffed, but it wasn’t long before his sour look was replaced by a cheeky grin of his own.

Thor laughed and turned to kiss their Mother. Frigga accepted the gesture regally, then pulled her eldest into a fierce hug of her own, whispering in his ear in a voice so low Loki had no hope of hearing. Before he could edge closer to see if he could eavesdrop a booming voice called out towards him.

“Well, who would have believed it. Is that the little Prince I see before me?”

Even as he scowled at the nickname, Loki couldn’t help but feel a hint of warmth. “Fandral,” he called lifting a hand to the golden hair warrior that was sauntering over. Fandral was a small man, quick with a sword as well as his wit. He had always been one of Loki’s favourite members of his brother’s friends, The Warriors Three. Laughing at Loki’s pranks and even on occasions joining in with his jokes. Loki studied the man as he came before him now. He was bigger, not in height but in the strength of his shoulders, built from the continuous fighting at Thor’s side. Facial hair crowned the top of his lip, and a scruff covered his jaw, giving him a rugged appearance. A far cry from the stylish man that was known for gracing the bed of many a lady.

He sketched out a bow and Loki couldn’t help but laugh as he spoke. “Truly, I am blessed to be in your presence. Why I hardly recognised you.”

“And I you, Fandral,” Loki said with a smirk. “I never thought I would see the day I would see you so haggard. The ladies will be sorely disappointed.”

“You mock me, good sir,” Fandral placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “The ladies will have surely missed me. There letters of love must be piled high, waiting desperately for my reply.”

“Only in your dreams.”

“You are so harsh.”

“You should know better than to tease the Master of Mischief himself Fandral. Though I must say the boy is looking mighty fine. A warrior in the making if I do say so myself.”

“You ruin all my fun, Volstagg,” Fandral pouted, which only made Volstagg laugh. Loki glanced passed Fandral to see Volstagg, a large man, whose impressive bulk was known across the realms, as well as his appetite. He was an older Asgardian, having nearly a century on Thor and more so on Fandral in age. His red hair and large beard were bright in the lights of the observatory, along with his axe which was slung across his back.

“Thank you Volstagg, I am glad someone can tell that I am no longer a boy,” he sent a petulant glare at his Mother and Thor, who laughed, Fandral along with them.

“I can tell a growing boy when I see one,” Volstagg said, bowing before Loki before doing the same with the Queen. “‘Tis good to see you looking so well my Prince.”

Loki smiled; he had no real issues with Volstagg. The man was kind and when Loki was younger was the best at being able to keep him entertained, though that mostly came from having children of his own. Volstagg’s only true detriment was that he was easily led and had a tendency to still treat Loki like a child on occasion, though he was pleased to note that that seemed to be changing.

“Can you please stop making such fools of yourselves, we are before the royal family.” The clipped words had Loki stiffening on reflex.

“Ah, Sif. You always have to be such a sour puss,” Fandral teased, but Loki noted the way the golden-haired warrior placed himself close to Loki as the final two members of the group made their way over.

Loki recognised Hogan, a quiet man who originally hailed from Vanaheim. His dark hair and solemn nature made it difficult for Loki to get a true reading of the man’s intentions, which was something that always bothered Loki. But from what he could glean, Loki had the impression that the Vanir found Loki tiresome and found it easy to ignore him. The fierce warrior woman at his side however was a different story.

Sif was not someone Loki thought he would see again. During the coup Amora had used the animosity she felt towards him to manipulate her, so much so that she had tried to kill him when he had managed to make it to Midgard to warn Thor of the plot against their family. Luckily Fandral and Thor had stepped in, but Odin had not taken it well once word had gotten back to him of the incident. All of Thor’s companions had been punished for their actions of desertion during the coup. Being split amongst the Asgardian forces and placed under the command of some of Odin’s toughest task masters. It was an action that seemed to have worked in most cases, and Loki could see the mark of Sif’s post clearly.

Her long dark hair had been cut short, no longer flowing down her back, but styled around her face so that it would not get in her way as she fought. Her leathers and armour were the most well kept out of the lot of them, her sword sheathed at her belt which Loki eyed warily. Though he couldn’t help but be surprised when she bowed low to him, her eyes not meeting his as she spoke.

“My Prince, you are looking well,” she said it simply, before turning to Thor and Frigga and extending the same courtesy to the Queen, as was proper.

Loki watched in shock, barely nodding his head when Hogan gave his bow and Thor, having taken their Mother’s hand began to move them out of the observatory, after some brief instructions to Heimdall about the return of the battalion.

“Not what you were expecting?” the quiet mutter pulled Loki from his shock and he turned to raise an eyebrow at Fandral.

“What happened to her?”

“Northern Border patrol,” Fandral stated flatly. “It’s a harsh assignment.”

Loki gaped, Fandral was being modest. The Northern Border patrol was the furthest regiment from the central city of Asgard. It was a dangerous place, full of savage beasts and marauders from other realms trying to sneak into the golden realm. It was headed by General Bjørn, an Asgardian known for his great strength, but also his fierce loyalty to the royal family. It’s said he had once been a common farm boy, the youngest of seven brothers. He’d been forced to leave his family farm once he was old enough, the land titled to only the oldest brother and like his other five brothers had been told to find his own way. He’d headed for the central city of Asgard, where he had entered the guard patrol, one of the few regiments that common folk can join. He’d distinguished himself, raising through the ranks before finally making the pinnacle, Einherjar, tasked with defending the royal family from any and all attack. He’d served for many years before Odin, then newly crowned King had bestowed upon him the title of General, where they had fought side by side in many battles to protect the Nine. Now he was the General of the Northern Border patrol and respected and feared by many young warriors that had come under his command.

Loki cast a look at Sif, she was standing several paces away from where Thor and Frigga were walking ahead. They had bypassed the horses, Thor telling Loki and Frigga’s escort to bring them along behind. Loki new it was only an excuse for Thor to spend more time with Mother, and Loki didn’t begrudge him that. He’d do the same thing.

“Is General Bjørn truly as fearsome as they say?”

“It would seem so,” Fandral said. “She’s been nothing but differential to Thor during the whole campaign. Not that he’s said anything, your brother has not forgiven Sif for what she tried to do, and I doubt he ever will. The General I think made it clear exactly how out of line she was, and where her place is.”

Loki swallowed, but his eyes continued to watch Sif. It was jarring to see the warrior woman, once so proud and all to ready to sneer at Loki in disgust so formal. Her face a mask of all emotion as she watched the Queen and Crown Prince, eyes constantly roving, on the look out for danger.

“Loki?! Come brother, do not loiter so back there! I am sure Fandral can make do without you!”

Loki startled at Thor’s shout, but was quick to respond. “I am coming!” he grinned at Fandral and waved farewell, before running down the bridge to join Thor and their Mother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> So here we are chapter 2. Thanks to everyone who has checked out the story so far and are still sticking with this series. As always please leave kudos and comment hearing from you all is a joy I love getting to know what you like and even what you don't constructive criticism is always helpful to me.
> 
> Enough from me! Let's get on with the story.
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

  
2

  
There was much celebration at Thor’s return, Odin ordered a banquet to be arranged and Loki couldn’t help but be swept up in all the high spirts. The servants, especially those of Thor’s household, were rushing around, making sure everything was perfect. Notable warriors, Generals and court nobles descended on the palace and soon the quiet home that Loki had been enjoying was filled with music and drunken laughter. 

  
Loki stared out from his seat at the high table, sat on his Mother’s right, who was in turn on the right of her husband the King, with Thor, before he had left the table a while ago, had been on his left. Long, scrubbed, wooden tables were set out horizontally along the large hall that had serviced the banquets of Asgards’ palace longer than Loki had been alive. They were piled high with golden platters, holding fruits, breads, cheeses and meats, which were snapped up by the wandering guests. Servants darted about the cacophony, filling any empty goblets that they passed, ensuring that the noble guests would have nothing to complain about during their trip to the royal palace. 

  
A loud bark of laughter drew Loki’s green gaze to the familiar figure of Fandral. Already he was surrounded by many ladies of the court, simpering and batting their eyelashes at him, as he regaled them with what was more than likely a highly embellished tale. Loki had to stop himself from shaking his head at the scene. Fandral had only been back on Asgardian soil for less than a day and already he was up to his usual antics. 

  
Sat at a table near the golden haired menace Volstagg was making his way through a pile of food, which didn’t seem to be decreasing, even with the ferocity in which he shovelled the various foods into his mouth, washing it down with a large gulp of wine. Loki shivered as those jaws clamped down on a thick leg of steaming meat, so the juices drippled down his chin and onto Volstagg’s tunic. Loki could finally understand why the voluminous warrior’s wife never came to these events; he wouldn’t want to sit next to anyone eating the way Volstagg did.

  
Lurking close by Loki spotted Hogan, though he was in deep discussion with some of the younger warriors, who chattered animatedly even as the quiet Vanir stood listening politely. 

  
Finally, Loki found Sif, the woman was stood with a group of other warriors, though it seemed to be as if they were talking around her and not to her. Loki felt a stab of pity at the sight of her. Sif had once been the envy of warriors, one of the few women that worked at the warrior arts, at least since the disillusion of the Valkyries, but that was before both even Thor or Loki was born. Some had hoped that with Sif’s assentation in the warrior ranks, it would mean the return of the fierce warrior women, but sadly since the coup and Sif’s poor judgement the tide had turned. Nobody wanted to put themselves in the crosshairs of the Kings anger. 

  
A light touch brough Loki from his thoughts. Turning he saw his Mother smiling gently at him, even as her eyes cut away to look at Sif before returning to Loki. 

  
“Have you finished dear?” she asked, and Loki glanced at his half empty third plate and nodded. “Are you tired?”

  
“I don’t want to go to bed yet Mother, I’m not a baby,” Loki huffed which only got him a laugh and a light flick of fingers through his hair. 

  
“Indeed, my darling, but I merely wanted to know if you would go and look for your brother.” 

  
Loki blinked, glancing from Thor’s empty seat at the high table to the banquet down below. Thor was nowhere to be seen.

  
“He disappeared a while ago, and it’s not right for the guests who have gathered here to see the return of their Crown Prince to be left bereft.”

  
“He never thinks things through,” Loki muttered.

  
“That’s why he has you dear,” Loki giggled, Frigga along with him. Hopping down from his chair Loki leaned up and kissed his Mother’s cheek. 

  
“Don’t worry Mother, I’ll find him.”

  
“I’m sure you will.”

  
Loki darted off, easing his way through the crowd and towards the outskirts. Once free of the oppressive noise and bodies, Loki set off deeper into the palace proper. It felt nice to be away from all the nobles, with their incessant chatter and laughter which gave Loki a headache. Normally he wouldn’t have been bothered with his Mother wishing to send him to bed early, banquets were not something Loki enjoyed, there being hardly any children his own age for him to associate with. But now, after all he had been through, Loki felt a sense of maturity that he hadn’t before. He was growing up and it was time he started taking things, even though he’d rather avoid some of them, much more seriously. 

  
He traversed the palace, the hallways empty due to the congregation in the hall. He’d given Leif the night off, though he was sure he would more than likely be helping his Mother in the kitchen, before returning to his duties in the morning. Normally an opportunity like this, alone and unsupervised, would have Loki itching for some mischief. An impulse which had been fun to indulge in with his new friends. But now alone as he was, Loki found it difficult to even feel a fraction of the usual anticipation that sung through him. 

  
Fixing his mind back on his task, Loki looked for Thor, only he could see no sign of his wayward Brother. Frustrated Loki stopped, took a breath, then gathered his seidr. Usually it wouldn’t have taken him as much concentration, but with his Mother’s enchantment restricting his seidr, even a simple task such as sensing and searching out seidr took much more effort. 

  
Once ready, Loki cast out for the familiar feel of his brother. While Thor couldn’t cast or manipulate seidr himself, he did have a presence. His ability with lightening and thunder was seidr in of itself, though a natural expression, something which didn’t require much manipulation or thought on Thor’s behalf. Loki thought it suited his brother perfectly. 

  
The concentration of people back in the banquet hall at first made it difficult for Loki to sort through the vast amount of seidr that brightened up for him to see. Loki couldn’t help but be in awe at being able to sense so much seidr. People often forgot that everyone carried a spark of seidr within them, but Loki was one of the few who would ever be able to feel them in such a way. Some were louder than others, shining bright and demanding Loki’s attention. Loki had to fight not to let his natural inclination to be nosey distract him too much. But he allowed himself some indulgence. His Mother’s presence was one that always surprised Loki, with how warm and powerful it was, it was also tempered, controlled. Loki could only suppose that was due to years of training to use her seidr. It was far different from the almost all-encompassing presence that was his Father. Odin’s seidr was like a flaming beacon, mixed with the natural energies of Asgard and flowing through the King. Loki could never look at Odin’s seidr for very long, not only did the power overwhelm him, but it gave him a headache trying to see where Odin’s seidr ended and that of Asgards’ began. 

  
A few other bright pockets peeked Loki’s interest, but he knew he shouldn’t dwell overly long. Turning his attention away he was about to stretch out in search of Thor when something tickled at the edge of his senses. 

  
Loki frowned. It wasn’t the vibrant sparking presence of Thor, nor was it the congregation that continued to buzz in the background. Drawn in, Loki felt his own seidr stretching further, out of the palace, the city. It felt like seidr, but one that didn’t wish to be noticed. Loki could almost believe that it was trying to drive Loki’s seidr away, distract it into believing it wasn’t there. Fascinated, Loki pulled the last amounts of seidr that could filter through his Mother’s restriction seal and was about to poke at the seidr that continued to try and ward him off when a hand fell on his shoulder. 

  
“Little brother, what are you doing out here?”

  
Loki yelped at the unexpected contact, ripping himself away only to stumble over his feet and end up on his rear. His moments distraction was enough for his seidr, straining under his Mother’s restrictions, to snap back into place. Loki hissed as a headache bloomed from the back lash, the curious lingering seidr that had so interested him before, now no longer in mind. So much so that he forgot all about it.

  
“Loki,” hands hovered on his shoulders and Loki peered up into the worried face of Thor. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

  
“I’m fine,” Loki said, waving away his brother’s frantic worrying as he tried to push himself up, only for his head to pound and dizziness overcome him. He would have ended up back on the floor if it wasn’t for Thor grabbing his arm. 

  
“Now, none of that. You look pale, were you using your seidr? You know Mother has restricted it; you shouldn’t have -”

  
“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t vanished,” Loki said with a scowl. Thor glanced away sheepishly. 

  
“Ah, yes. I should maybe have told someone I was leaving for a while.”

  
“You’ll have to explain it to Mother. She sent me to find you.”

  
“Were you not enjoying the party Brother?” Thor asked and Loki huffed. 

  
“How anyone can enjoy those things is beyond me. They’re just full of stuffy adults and ladies that like to pinch my cheeks if I let them too close.”

  
“You will not always feel so with the ladies, Brother,” Thor laughed. “I look forward to the day when you will no doubt be breaking the heart of many a lady.”

  
“Thor!”

  
The Crown Prince laughed, and Loki pouted, pulling his arm away, luckily, he didn’t get another dizzy spell, his seidr having settled. “What were you doing anyway?”

  
Thor stopped laughing, he looked over his shoulder. Loki followed his gaze. The hallway led to the stables, but what was Thor doing at the stables? He had no need to use his horse, especially not at this hour.

  
A hand landed back on his shoulder and Loki looked up at Thor. He was smiling, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He didn’t know why but Loki thought Thor looked sad.   
“‘T’s nothing Brother. I simply needed some air. Come let us return to the banquet, we wouldn’t want to keep Mother waiting.”

  
Loki allowed himself to be pushed back down the corridor, where the noise of the banquet hall awaited. But his mind couldn’t help but focus on the sadness in Thor’s eyes. He wondered what had put it there? 

  
***

  
The jubilation at Thor’s return was quickly replaced with the familiar hustle and bustle of palace life, though things were highted as the delegation from Jotunheim neared.   
Thor, after his battalion and a number of prisoners, that had been brought back with them through the Bifrost, settled back into his duties quickly. Soon Loki didn’t see his Brother apart from the usual once a day family meal that Frigga made sure they all attended. 

  
Loki had his lessons and his seidr instruction from his Mother to keep him occupied, but still, when he saw his Brother at those meals, he couldn’t shake off the sadness that seemed to cling to Thor like a shroud. Of course, his Brother put on a smile for him. Making sure to watch Loki’s training, even coming down to the cohort to see how he had progressed in the traditional warrior arts. But still something didn’t feel right, and Loki didn’t want to pry into what seemed to be a private issue for his elder brother. 

  
But when Loki wasn’t worrying for Thor, he was for the Jotun delegation. The time of their arrival seemed to have crept up on him, that it was almost as though he was witnessing someone else as Leif dressed him in his best tunic, trousers and boots before he would head down to the Bifrost to greet the anticipated guests. 

  
“Is a…all well my Prince?” the tentative question had Loki startled. He whipped his head around so fast that it almost had Leif stepping back with the suddenness of the movement.

  
“What?”

  
“You seem … forgive me Prince L…Loki -”

  
“Just call me Loki, Leif.” Leif blushed and clasped his hands together tightly.

  
“I…I…Loki, is everything a…alright?”

  
Loki blinked, surprised at the question. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  
“F…forgive me, but I d…don’t think that’s true.” Loki watched as his Valet squared his shoulders, seeming to come to a decision. He stepped closer and put a warm hand on his shoulder as he said. “Are you w…worried about the Jotuns?”

  
Loki stared, surprised at his Valet’s forwardness. Normally, he would have easily brushed off the comment, much like he had been doing since the announcement that the Jotun’s would be coming. But now, with their arrival imminent and alone in his room with one of his few friends that truly cared for him, Loki couldn’t bottle up his worry. 

  
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know how I feel Leif,” he said. “It seems so surreal. The last time I saw a Jotun … well …” he petered off, not willing to drag the memory of Laufey baring down on him back to the forefront of his mind. “But then, I’m curious.”

  
“C…curious?”

  
“Aye. I am Jotun.” Loki spoke the sentence easily, something which just a year ago he would have shivered at the thought of admitting. “It doesn’t define me and it never will, but I can’t help but be curious about it. Mother got me books and I’ve read of their past and culture as was best reported before the war. But what would it really have been like living on Jotunheim? How different would it have been from Asgard? Could I have been different if I was raised there?”

  
Leif nodded, “that makes s…sense.”

  
“Plus, in all that reading, I’ve not come across the mention of …well, small Jotuns.”

  
“S…small Jotuns?”

  
“I don’t exactly look like a giant, do I?” Loki smiled which managed to get a laugh out of Leif. “All of the Jotun’s we’ve ever seen have been large, towering over all the other beings in the Nine realms, so why I am so much shorter?”

  
Leif frowned, “you think the new King would be able to answer your questions?”

  
Loki shrugged, “I don’t know. But the thought of asking him both excites and unnerves me.”

  
“Why?”

  
“Well, the last time I saw a Jotun they were chasing me. It wasn’t exactly the best introduction.”

  
Leif nodded and Loki was glad that his friend had swallowed his words so easily, he knew if it had been Sigyn the girl would have more than likely called him out on his lie. It was partly true that he was still scared for his last experience with Jotun’s, but there was another far more personal reason. Even though he knew and accepted that his family would always be Odin, Frigga and Thor, Helblindi was still his brother by blood. Even in those few moments in which he saw Laufey, Loki couldn’t even begin to draw any similarities between himself and the Jotun, but would it be different with his brother? 

  
Loki let Leif fuss over him, as his thoughts continued down the ever-growing rabbit hole. Eventually he was able to pull himself back into focus when Leif declared him ready and it was time to meet up with his Mother in preparation for heading to the Bifrost. Leif had done a good job with the ensemble. His tunic was green, with gold lining, with black trousers and soft leather boots that came to just below his ankles. He’d forgone a cape, along with the usual gold circlet he’d worn before. For this occasion he didn’t want to look like a princeling, but more of a Prince, one that would stand side by side with his family. 

  
Leif escorted him from his rooms and they soon met his Mother coming out of her own quarters. She kissed his cheeks and Leif was dismissed. He gave Loki a quick smile and wave, before scurrying away and Loki and Frigga were surrounded by the einherjar.

  
“Are you feeling well my dear?” Frigga asked as they made their way through the palace. Loki quickly put on a smile.

  
“Of course, Mother. Where are Thor and Father?” 

  
Frigga gave him a quick glance, but didn’t push him to answer the question. “They are already at the Bifrost, the Council of Nine is also there.”

  
Loki nodded, allowing the conversation to flow to silence as they left the palace proper. Instead of heading for the stables, Loki and Frigga descended the front steps of the palace, where a golden carriage was waiting for them. It wasn’t often that Loki rode in the royal carriage anymore. He used to, when he had been much younger and was more attached to his Mother’s side, but since he learned to ride, it had only become natural that he would have his own pony and was able to be at Thor or his Mother’s side on his own steed. It felt strange to be sat in the plush interior after so long. The deep red cushioned seats seemed to envelope him, and Loki was sure he could have fallen asleep if he hadn’t have been so anxious. 

  
Once the Queen and Prince were safely ensconced within, the driver, who had been waiting with the door open for them, shut it. Climbing up onto the front of the carriage, he took the reins of the four patiently waiting horses. He flicked them and clicked his tongue and soon they were moving away from the palace and down into the central city of Asgard. 

  
Loki pulled back a thick velvet curtain so he would peer out of the window as they passed through the town. There were a few people littered about the streets, but not as many as he would have thought, especially with the chance to see the Royal carriage. Though Loki could understand their nervousness. 

  
“Loki,” his Mother called, and Loki let the curtain fall back into place.

  
“The streets are quiet,” he said, and Frigga sighed.

  
“So it would seem.”

  
“Are the people that scared of the Jotun’s?” Loki couldn’t help but sink into himself, curling his shoulders around to make himself smaller.

  
He heard the rustle of cloth and suddenly Frigga was there beside him, having moved from her place opposite to wrap an arm around his shoulders.   
“Now, now, none of that,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss to his hair. 

  
“They’d probably do the same if they knew about me. They’d hate me.”

  
“Loki,” Frigga admonished, squeezing him tighter. “They could never hate you.”

  
“But if they knew -”

  
“It would not matter,” Frigga insisted. “I like to think that the people of Asgard are more intelligent that you seem to believe. They would never turn their backs on their Young Prince. You saw how worried they were when you returned from Midgard.” 

  
Loki sighed; it was true that upon his return the people had been ecstatic. Word had gotten out that he was missing, and the people had rose to the occasion to look for him. Men not of the guard had volunteered to search the neighbouring cities outside of the main central city of Asgard. Of course, he hadn’t been there, but the gesture had touched Loki deep in his core. But that of course didn’t mean that the people of Asgard would be so willing to accept or care for him if they knew of his true heritage. 

  
“I guess.”

  
Frigga squeezed him tight. “Have faith my little Loki,” she said. “The people are wary of the Jotun’s, but I have no doubt that you will be able to show them the error of their ways.”

  
Loki didn’t have the heart to argue with his Mother’s words and instead allowed himself to be held. Enjoying the peace only her scent and presence could bring. 

  
The carriage finally cleared the town and they began to cross the Rainbow Bridge. As they neared the Observatory, Loki eased himself away from his Mother to look out of the small curtained off window once more. 

  
The beautiful tones of the Rainbow Bridge lit their way. Loki couldn’t help but still be awed by the Void which stretched out into empty blackness below, even as he shivered at the thought of ever getting so close to it that he might fall. He’d already had far too close an encounter to even wish to experience it again. He looked ahead, spotting the white stones of the Observatory. There were several horses that were waiting outside it, along with a collection of einherjar and guards. There was also another, larger carriage that would no doubt be for their guests. Loki marvelled at the sheer size of the thing. It dwarfed the royal carriage he and his Mother occupied, almost ten times its size if Loki was to guess. The exterior was a simple black and silver, artfully decorated with a comfy interior. 

  
Loki was still staring at the thing when their carriage pulled up and he quickly had to pull back as the door opened or he would have ended up falling gracelessly from the carriage. 

  
Loki hopped out and before one of the guards could step up, held out his hand for his Mother. The Queen giggled but allowed her much younger son to help her down from the carriage. Loki tried his best not to let a blush infuse his cheeks as his Mother gave him an appreciative kiss on the cheek, instead taking her arm and escorting her into the Observatory. 

  
The normally rather empty Bifrost was, for once, bustling. Guards loitered around the pillars along with einherjar, all dressed in their bright armour with weapons at the ready. Loki saw a collection of older Asgardians around the central control which Heimdall used to activate the Bifrost. Loki didn’t know all of the Council of Nine, the group that worked along side the ruler of Asgard to run the realm. Since the coup, Odin had overhauled all of the Councillors, upsetting a number of the older guard, who had thought they had had positions for the rest of their lives. But Odin hadn’t been willing to let anymore would-be traitors get so close again. Especially not when it effected the safety of his family.

  
The Gatekeeper himself look rather put out at the collection of people invading his usual solitary home. Loki could see the golden eyes, usually blank and lifeless, narrow, watching the Councillors with a degree of annoyance as their voices echoed around the Observatory. Making comments on how less resources should have been poured into the reconstruction when only Heimdall was in permanent residence.

  
“Mother! Loki!”

  
The shout gathered the attention of the Councillors, along with the guards, who straightened at the appearance of the final two members of the royal family. Loki paid little heed to it, his eyes fixed on Thor and his Father. 

  
Both were stood where the Bifrost would materialise. Odin was dressed in his olden armour with Gungnir, his spear, held in one hand. Even with his shorter, aged stature, Loki thought his Father appeared strong. His greying hair was swept back and Loki could see muscle that, though rather underused, was still capable of doing battle if needed. 

  
At his side was the beaming Crown Prince. Thor was in his usual armour, cleaned and repaired from his long campaign. The silver plates glinted in the light of the Rainbow bridge. His red cape hung behind him, with Mjolnir strapped to his belt, humming in contentment, much like her master. 

  
Loki and Frigga crossed to the pair. Loki let go of his Mother’s arm so she could bow low. 

  
“My King,” she acknowledged her husband, who stepped forward and took her arm, bringing her into step beside him. 

  
“My Queen.”

  
“My King,” Loki followed suit, as he’d been taught to do since he was old enough to understand the etiquette of the court life he had been born into. 

  
“My Prince,” Odin tilted his head, then surprisingly reached out and placed a hand on top of Loki’s head and ruffled his hair. Loki was shocked by the gesture of affection. Usually at official events his Father was distant, having to be a King more than a Father. But it appeared on this occasion Odin was willing to bend tradition, not that Loki minded. He even moved his large hand down to cup the back of Loki’s head, to pull him close to his side. Thor stepped up on his other, sandwiching him between the two older Asgardian men. 

  
“Are you well, Brother?” Thor asked. Loki looked at him. Thor’s face was still pleasant, but he could see a pitch of worry. 

  
Not willing to cause a scene, especially before the Council of Nine, Loki smiled. 

  
“Of course, Thor. I am anxious to meet our guests though. When will they arrive?”

  
Thor stared at him, his eyebrow twitching in a sign of his disbelief of Loki’s words. But he turned to Heimdall, who bowed to the royal family. 

  
“All the preparations have been made. The Jotun delegation simply wait for your order.”

  
“Thank you Heimdall,” Odin said, removing his hand from Loki’s neck to stand straighter. “We will begin the activation of the Bifrost.”

  
“As you wish my King,” Heimdall said, crossing to the Bifrost controls, scattering the Council of Nine as he pulled free his great sword Hofund. 

  
“Are we sure we are ready, Your Majesty?” one of the Councillors asked, glancing around as the Bifrost began to hum. “Perhaps we should delay.”

  
“There will be no more delays,” Odin commanded, slamming Gungnir down to punctuate his order. “The Jotun’s have waited long enough and so have I. Take your places.”

  
The council, cowed by their fear of the wrath of the King, hurried to do as commanded. Gathering behind the royal family at a respectful distance as they watched the Bifrost twist before them in a mix of colours. 

  
Loki felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The seidr humming all around him was potent and something Loki was sure he would never get used to. It made him realise just how powerful a working of seidr the Bifrost was. 

  
Heimdall twisted Hofund. The humming increased and suddenly there was a flash of light blinding everyone in the room momentarily. Loki blinked away the spots which danced across his vision. It always made him curse that one side effect of the Bifrost, the creators truly overlooked a design flaw. However his grumbling was short lived as his eyes landed on the beings which had been brought forth. 

  
Stood before them all were the Jotun’s. Loki’s mind couldn’t help bit flash back to the last time he had seen one. Large, menacing, looming over him ready to kill. Loki swallowed and pushed back his instant reaction to run, instead fixing his attention of studying the beings before him. 

  
The three Jotun’s were larger than any of the Asgardians, standing over eight feet and one which had to be ten foot tall. Their blue skin was bright and gleaming in the light of the Bifrost, Loki thought he could even see cold steam coming up from them, sending a chill into the air. Loki’s gaze swept over the intricate markings which marred the otherwise smooth blue surface. The markings were something Loki had researched, fascinated in the complex deigns, though not as prominent on his own skin as the Jotun’s before him. From what he could understand, they were heritage lines, marking the linage of any offspring of a Jotun. They were born faint and once a Jotun reached a certain age, they were made deeper in some kind of ceremony. Lines were also added when a Jotun married, achieved a feat or had children of their own. In essence you could know everything about a Jotun, just by looking at their markings, which they wore with pride and honour. 

  
Loki swept over the markings of the tallest Jotun. They covered most of their skin, dark and deeply ingrained. They disappeared beneath a thick white fur hide which was wrapped around their waist, along with leather straps that came up to cross across their chest. It was only as Loki’s eyes moved up that he felt a flush creep up his neck. The Jotun before them was female, made evident by the ample bosom that was barely concealed beneath the straps. Two short, but thick horns curled from their bald head, with a chain connecting between the two, with a single white pendent hanging in the middle so it rested on the Jotun’s forehead. A staff, that look more like the trunk of a tree was held easily in one hand, but Loki could feel the tell-tale signs of seidr, though not as strong as himself or his Mother. 

  
Beside the tall female Jotun was a male. His horns were longer and didn’t curl, instead protruding straight and deadly from his forehead, the pointed ends more than capable of skewering an Asgardian. His bottom half was concealed by a black fur hide but the rest of his body was bared to the elements. Loki thought this Jotun appeared older, he could see lines around the Jotun’s deep red eyes and mouth. His heritage lines were also faded, worn away like rock against the wrath of the sea and wind.

  
The third and final Jotun, was also a male and the shortest of the ones gathered before them, though he carried himself with confidence before the assembled Asgardians, who peered up at him with wary hostility. His horns were large and think, curling back so they had a rounded edge. A collection of jewels encrusted them, making them look more like a crown then the deadly weapons Loki was sure they could be. His blue skin was covered in markings and Loki could see where newer ones had been recently added, they not having faded to scars just yet. A deep red fur hide covered his lower regions, a bright, stark colour compared to his companions. It matched his eyes, which surveyed the group, before stepping forward towards the royal family.   
Loki sucked in a breath at the Jotun’s approach. His legs trembled and he would have panicked if not for his Brother’s steadying hand on the small of his back. A bright spot of comfort in the uncomfortable situation. 

  
The Jotun stopped two feet away, then bowed low. 

  
“Odin AllFather,” his voice was a deep rumble. Like an echo in a cave, soft, gentle, yet powerful.

  
“King Helblindi,” Odin said, bowing his own head at a fellow King of the Nine realms. Loki tired not to let the shock appear on his face, even as his eyes flicked back to study the Jotun before them once more. This was Helblindi, the new King Jotunheim. Eldest son of Laufey and Loki’s blood Brother. “You honour us with your visit.”

  
“Nay, AllFather, your acceptance honours me,” Helblindi said, lifting his head, but still appearing humble before the King of Asgard. Loki couldn’t help but be stunned. The Jotun before him was nothing like his sire. It was true, Loki had not seen much of Laufey, but what he had witnessed made him think of the old King as a hard creature. His mind bent towards violence and rage. But this Jotun was polite, quiet, nothing like the ruthless King Laufey at all.

  
Helblindi stepped back, allowing his companions to come up just behind him. “May I introduce one of our Seidrmasters, Angrboða, Lady of the Iron Woods and Thrym, Lord of the White Sea, and an elder of Jotunheim.”

  
Odin bowed to the two. “Greetings and welcome to Asgard.”

  
“King Odin,” Angrboða said, voice deep but soft, a counter point to her tall stature. A grunt left Thrym’s mouth and Loki was sure that was all the Jotun Lord would have said if Helblindi hadn’t cleared his throat significantly. 

  
“King Odin.” the reluctant acknowledgment made the Council, still stood behind the royal’s bristle, but Odin paid it no mind, but Loki could see the way his shoulders stiffened. 

  
“Lord Thrym, it has been a long time.”

  
“Not long enough,” the Jotun Lord spat, making no attempt to hide his distain for the King of Asgard. Loki eyes shifted from one to the other, his Father’s face was a blank mask while the Jotun continued to glare at him, ignorant or uncaring for the Council that looked ready to revolt at the blatant disrespect he showed. 

  
Much to Loki’s surprise, Odin shook his head and laughed, though it was brittle, “I see you haven’t changed.”

  
The Jotun scoffed and looked ready to say more when the Jotun King Helblindi deftly swept in. “I take it this is your family King Odin.”

  
Odin nodded and Frigga stepped forward, dipping down into a short curtsy. “King Helblindi, it is truly a great delight to host you. I hope you enjoy your time here on Asgard.”

  
“Queen Frigga,” Helblindi nodded, bowing politely back. Thor stepped forward then, shoulders back and face still as he bowed to the King of Jotunheim. 

  
“King Helblindi, welcome.”

  
“Prince Thor,” Helblindi said with a mere tilt of his head. The gesture was greeted with a round of mutters from the Council of Nine. The King of Jotunheim, while not being completely disrespectful had barely acknowledge the Crown Prince of Asgard. It was an action that could be taken, by some, as an insult, the Council would no doubt see it so. Thor was their future king and any disrespect to him could be seen as disrespectful to the realm itself. Loki glanced worriedly at his Brother, hoping that King Helblindi’s action had not stoked the Thunderers hot temper. Instead Thor’s face was open, with a small polite smile playing around his lips. 

  
“Asgard is gladdened by your presence,” Thor continued. “I hope that this can be a step into a future where Asgard and Jotunheim can work side by side,” then he held out his hand to the King.  
Helblindi’s face, which had been so schooled cracked slightly. He blinked, glancing at the hand, then the Thunderer, as though unsure as of how to proceed. 

  
“Prince Thor! Don’t touch him!” a Councilmen protested.

  
“To touch a Jotun’s skin is to invite death!” another added, to which Thor laughed.

  
“I am sure that is true, but I doubt that it is always so,” Thor’s blue eyes flicked to Loki and the Young Prince was sure his Brother winked at him before looking back to King Helblindi. 

  
“But still -”

  
“You are right Crown Prince Thor,” Helblindi said, stepping forward even as Thrym gave him a glare. Before anymore could be said, Helblindi clasped Thor’s outstretched hand tightly. Loki, along with the rest of the gathered Asgardians waited with bated breath, but nothing happened. Thor did not scream in pain, nor did his arm begin to turn the horrible blackened colour that had inflicted many Asgardians during the war with Jotunheim. “A Jotun can control the temperature of their own skin. The frost bite that can come as a result from touching a Jotun is not something that we keep up the whole time. Why how else would we even be able to touch one another? It would be most disruptive.”

  
Thor laughed again and shook the King’s hand. Loki smiled at his Brother; this was one of Thor’s better traits on show. His charm and ease, both of which now far eclipsed the temper and arrogance that once had soiled his Brother’s personality. Loki knew that these qualities of his Brother would ensure that he became a great King, one that could even unite the Nine if he wished.   
Thor chatted with King Helblindi a little more, exchanging pleasantries with Angrboða and Thrym, the latter looking like he’d rather strangle the Crown Prince, as he thanked him for the welcome through gritted teeth. 

  
Finally, Thor stepped back, and Loki felt those red eyes fall on him. He tried his best not to let the fear and unease show on his face, instead he took a steadying breath and stepped forward, past Thor, who, while not reaching out to clasp his Brother’s shoulder, stood close to Loki’s back, a protective and supportive presence in a situation Loki had been dreading. 

  
“King Helblindi, welcome to Asgard,” Loki said, bowing low, as was proper of a second Prince. Loki had decided to keep his own greeting short, not wanting to risk him losing what little confidence he had to face this situation head on. 

  
Loki waited for the words to be reciprocated, giving him his que in which to stand back up and retreat. But instead he heard a shuffle of feet, then and waft of air that tickled his raven locks. 

  
“Please, Prince Loki, stand, you bowing before me is something that I would never wish for.”

  
Startled, Loki couldn’t help but do as commanded, only to be met by the face of King Helblindi, now bent on one knee before him, face solemn.

  
“I…I… King Helblindi I don’t -”

  
“My sire, the once King Laufey came to this realm and nearly killed you Prince Loki,” Helblindi said, those red eyes never moving from Loki’s shocked green ones. “Seeking the death of a child, it is a sin not even uttered from the mouths of Jotun. It is seen as too monstrous to contemplate. That my sire tried to end your life,’ Helblindi shuddered. ‘He will be damned most painfully for his act.’  
Loki continued to stare in shock as Helblindi lowered his head. ‘I cannot ever begin to comprehend the fear you must have felt. To have you standing before us now, is a testament to your courage and character. That you see fit to give the Jotun race another chance, I am humbled. But still,” Helblindi shifted and suddenly he was bent fully at the waist, so his jewelled horns were touching the cool floor of the Observatory. “I must ask for your forgiveness in the act my sire tried to perpetuate upon you. Ask anything of me and it will be yours.”

  
Loki was struck dumb. If there was anything he had expected when meeting the Jotun’s, especially King Helblindi it had never been this. “W…well…I…”

  
“There is no need for this King Helblindi,” Thor said, though he sounded just as shocked as Loki felt. “The wrongs of King Laufey are not for you to -”

  
“No,” Helblindi voice was sharp and strong. “Laufey as the King of Jotunheim did not just carry his own honour, but that of all of Jotunheim. His sins are our sins, his faults our faults. We will carry the shame of his actions until we feel as though those actions have been atoned for. It is our way. In addition, Laufey was my sire and I have made it one of my first acts as King to right as many of his wrongs as I am able. He did much damage, not only to others in the Nine realms, but Jotunheim as well. He lost us our greatest treasure.” 

  
Helblindi hadn’t looked up through out his whole speech. Loki glanced at the other two Jotun’s, both were down on their knees, their large forms almost curling in on themselves before him. It was something he was unprepared to deal with. He glanced at his Mother and Father. The King’s face was still, but Frigga caught his desperate look and simply smiled at him, fully willing to support whatever decision he made. He turned back to the Jotun’s. None of them had moved, willing to wait, maybe forever for whatever choice Loki made. 

  
Loki swallowed, he hadn’t given much thought into forgiving Laufey and if the being was still alive, he probably would not be able to. But this Jotun, this new King, he had done nothing to Loki, was prepared to face whatever wrath the Young Prince could dish out to him. Loki straightened his back, proud and strong. He would put the blame where it belonged.

  
“I thank you for your words King Helblindi, but please, there is no need for them. It is true, that should you have been King Laufey I would have wished for nothing more than your head. Not for my own life, you understand, but for the actions he took against my family. But you are not he and I believe it is not right to judge one by the actions of another. Please, raise your head and that of Jotunheim.”

  
Helblindi hesitated, but slowly he lifted his head. Loki swallowed nervously as those fathomless red eyes stared at him. Then Helblindi sighed.

  
“The remarkableness of youth is something I find still astounds me,” he said, heaving his great bulk up to stand, though he eyes never left Loki. “It seems as if I have much to learn. You have a truly extraordinary son, King Odin. He does you credit. I look forward to seeing the man he will become.”

  
“Don’t we all,” Odin said, and Loki let out a sigh of relief as his Father placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Though I hope it will be a few more years before he is old enough to cause me even more grey hairs.”

  
Helblindi laughed and Loki found the sound pleasant. “I have yet to have sired any of my own children. I cannot help but be nervous for that day.”

  
“Children are a great gift,” Odin said, squeezing Loki’s shoulder tightly.

  
“Indeed. But I still stand by my word Prince Loki. Anything you wish, name it an it shall be yours. There is no rush,” Helblindi added as he saw Loki’s look of panic. “It is an open wish, one that I have no want to retract.”

  
“I…Thank you, King Helblindi,” Loki managed to say, which got him a small smile cracking across the Jotun King’s lips. 

  
“We should make our way to the Palace,” Frigga said, clapping her hands which had the guards and einherjar moving. “Please this way.”

  
Loki allowed himself to be pushed back as Frigga took Helblindi’s arm, escorting him from the Observatory. Odin offered a hand to Angrboða, who took it daintily, while Thrym brought up the rear, but was soon engulf by the Council of Nine. Heimdall followed, as though making sure the invaders of his home were well and truly leaving. 

  
“Are you well Brother?” Loki turned to Thor, who was still stood by his side, concern making his blue eyes dark. Loki didn’t know what to say, in truth he didn’t know how to feel, the whole scenario had gone down much differently than he thought it would have done. It had sent his preconceived notions for a loop and leaving him floundering. 

  
“I don’t know. King Helblindi is different than I thought he would be,” Loki finally admitted.

  
“Indeed Brother,” Thor agreed. “Though it appears that it is for the better. Never have a seen or heard of a Jotun getting on his knees. They are a proud race.”

  
Loki nodded, “aye. Come, we should not fall too far behind, Mother will be angry if we delay the departure.”

  
Thor grimaced and together they made their way out of the Observatory. 

  
***

  
The feast to welcome the Jotun’s was a far more subdued affair than Loki was used to. Of course, there was the usual dancing, music and tales that seemed to be without end. But there was a tension which permeated the room, one that dampened the usually joyful atmosphere. 

  
Loki had sat in his usual seat at the high table, which had been altered to accommodate their guest. Raised sections were situated by the right side of the King and Queen, along with chairs large enough to sit the taller and thicker bulk of the Jotun King and his delegation. Exotic foods had also been provided. Loki took interest in the strange mix of fruits though he curled his nose at the meat, which was rawer than what most Asgardians would typically prefer. They were placed before their guests, who heartily tucked into the selection. 

  
Loki had been on the left, next to his Mother for which he was grateful. Even getting over the first initial meeting, Loki was still unsure and felt wrong footed around the Jotun’s. Thor thankfully was able to keep a lot of the attention on himself, regaling tales of Midgard to Angrboða, who listened with wrapped attention. Thrym, who was the closest to his King appeared indifferent, but Loki could see his eyes shift to Thor and Angrboða every now and then with interest, especially at the mention of the technology Midgard now boasted. 

  
However, it was King Helblindi that received most of Loki’s attention. The King of Jotunheim was seated next to his Father, Odin, deep in quiet discussion which was masked by the noise of the gathering around them. Loki watched the two, taking in Helblindi’s features. Did they look alike? Loki didn’t think so but was that because he was in his Asgardian form. Would similarities emerge if Loki was to shift? The Young Prince shivered, he might be nervous and wary of telling the people of Asgard about his heritage, but informing any Jotun sent a fission of fear down his spine. What would they do to him? Would they care? Would they try to kill him like his sire tried the moment he was born? 

  
Caught up in his thoughts Loki wasn’t quick enough to dart his gaze away as Helblindi looked up from his discussion. Loki froze, startled like a rabbit caught in a predator’s gaze. Those red eyes stared at him, but then lips moved into a small smile.

  
Loki’s heart jumped, his stomach curled, and he felt a rush embarrassment. He tore his gaze away and stood up. Hastily making up an excuse for his Mother he nearly ran from the hall and out onto one of the verandas, which overlooked the great central city of Asgard. 

  
Making sure to close the door, Loki took in a deep breath, letting the chill of the night chase away the rapid swell of emotions that had almost over come him. Sighing he crossed to the stone rail, and leaned his body over it, head bowed. The drop to the ground below was significant, but he could still make out the hustle of the guards as they went about their rounds in the Palace courtyard below. It gave Loki something to focus on instead of his confused emotions. He still felt the embarrassment of having been caught staring, but underneath that was a fear and anger that Loki worried would boil up and overwhelm him. If his seidr wasn’t restricted, he was sure it would have been sparking, reacting to the torrent of confusing emotions, but instead it was forced to roll beneath his skin, making him feel sick. He sighed again as he tried his best to squash out the feeling, but his seidr made it difficult. 

  
“Loki?”

  
Shocked at the sudden voice, Loki yelped, spinning, which only added to the nausea he was suffering.

  
“F…Father? What are you doing here?”

  
Odin was stood by the door that led back into the hall, which was thankfully still shut. Gungnir was held in one hand, while his armour glinted in the torches which were ensconced along the walls of the palace, adding soft light to the otherwise dark night. His Father’s one eye stared at him. 

  
“Your Mother was worried when you left so suddenly. She would have come, but I needed some air and King Helblindi was more than willing to indulge your Mother in a dance. Is all well my son?”

  
“Of course,” Loki smiled, even though it felt like the last thing he wished to do. “I was merely overwhelmed; you know I do not enjoy feasts overmuch.”

  
Odin sighed then crossed to where Loki remained standing at attention by the rails. He stared down at him and Loki hoped he’d put enough into his expression to mask his turbulent emotions which still swirled inside him. Odin then leaned Gungnir up against the rails and without a second thought reached out and brought Loki into an all-encompassing hug. 

  
Loki couldn’t help but be rather shocked at the sudden display of affection. Of course, he and his Father had been getting closer, especially within the last two years, but his Father preferred ruffling his hair, or pats on the shoulder. Hugs were something Loki remember from his early childhood, when he was still small enough to be carried around on his Father’s shoulders when he had time to spend with him in his Mother’s garden. It had petered off as he’d gotten older, so he had forgotten how warm his Father’s hugs made him feel. Protected, safe from the outside world.

  
“Now my young son, I think you know better than to lie to me,” Odin said softly, as he tucked Loki in close to his chest. “What is it that plagues you so?”

  
Loki sniffed, burying his head into his Father’s clothes. “I don’t know, I just feel so confused.”

  
“About what?”

  
“I…” Loki hesitated, but it seemed that Odin didn’t need further prompting. A large hand found its way to Loki’s raven locks and carded through them. 

  
“The Jotun’s?” he asked. Loki bit his lip, then nodded. “I can understand your confusion my son. The Jotun’s, for too many years now have been a source of anger and strife for our people. That is something I should have put a stop to.”

  
“You couldn’t have done anything,” Loki said. “People were scared for a reason.”

  
“That still doesn’t mean we should take out our fear on a whole race,” Odin disagreed. “Laufey may not have been the nicest Jotun, but he was not the majority.” Loki snorted, his disbelief clear.

“Oh, sceptical, are you? Well I have it on good authority that most Jotun’s are fairly nice people, though they do possess a temper along with a wicked sense of humour.”

  
“How could you know that? You’ve never met many Jotun’s.”

  
“Not true, in fact I have first had experience, since my own Mother was a Jotun.”

  
Loki jerked back to stare up in surprise at the smirking face of his Father. “W…what?”

  
“Indeed. I’m sure your Mother must have mentioned it at some point.” Loki shrugged and Odin sighed. Pushing Loki away from him a little, he turned then promptly sat on the floor, before tugging Loki down beside him. Loki allowed himself to be placed close to his Father, who kept an arm wrapped around his shoulders, giving Loki the comfort and grounding his seidr needed. It made his stomach feel so much better. 

  
“Grandmother was truly Jotun?” Loki asked once he was comfortable. 

  
“Hmm. Her name was Bestla, she hailed from the Seven Sisters.”

  
“Seven Sisters?”

  
“Seven mountains that cut through Jotunheim,” Odin explained. “It is a harsh land, even for Jotunheim, the Jotun from there tend to be wilder than their counterparts on the Plains or closer to the sea and Utgard.”

  
“Utgard?”

  
“Someone hasn’t been paying attention to their Geography,” Odin teased, pulling on a black lock, which had Loki frowning. “Utgard was the central city of Jotunheim, it’s where the Palace stands today.”

  
“There were cities in Jotunheim?” Loki couldn’t help but ask. Odin nodded, a sad look crossing his face. 

  
“Aye, there were many cities in Jotunheim before the Great War. Most tragically were destroyed and not just by Asgardian forces. Laufey was a tyrant and used his people’s homes as garrisons for his army during the siege. After, there was simply no funds or resources for them to be rebuilt, though I hear they are more akin to settlements now, they are a far cry from the great towering ice spires that my Mother described in my youth.” 

  
Loki’s mind conjured up a picture, of the white snow of Jotunheim and in the distance a glittering pillar of ice that sparkled in the sun that managed to creep through the clouds of the Jotunheim sky. 

  
“I bet they were beautiful.”

  
Odin squeezed his shoulder. “The Seven Sisters did not have such a great city to its name, but it was a wonderful place. Simple and modest but had the fiercest warriors ever to grace Jotunheim’s army. Back in my Grandfather’s time and our two people were on friendlier terms, Jotunheim would send some of their warriors to Asgard and vice versa.”

  
“Why?”

  
“History would say it was a sign of friendship, but it was more likely to do with keeping an eye on each other’s resources and strength. Not that that mattered to the warriors which were stationed on both realms. They were there to learn and serve. My Mother Bestla was on a placement in Asgard when she met my Father, your Grandfather.”

  
“What was he like?”

  
“Bor?” Odin laughed. “Very much like Thor, though without his signature golden hair. He was boisterous, loud and according to my Mother’s many rantings, highly annoying.”

  
Loki giggled and Odin smiled fondly. “The pair of them didn’t get on at all when they first met. Bestla thought Bor didn’t take being a warrior and a future King seriously and Bor thought Bestla took everything too seriously. They were opposites in personality and in life experience. Bestla’s home of the Seven Sisters was harsh while Bor grew up in a life of privilege. In the end though, I think that was drew them together.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“They’d fight like cat and dog, tearing each other apart not only with their words, but with their fists. For most of my youth I had never seen my Father best my Mother in the ring, though he did give her a run for her money. But Mother kept Father grounded, deflated his ego and made him think. While Father, he made Mother smile. She laughed more when in his presence, was more at ease. He made her forget her responsibilities for a while so she could simply live. They were wonderful people.”

  
Loki felt a sting at the look which crossed his Father’s face, one of happiness and longing. He felt sad that he had never gotten the chance to meet either of his Father’s parents, both having passed long before he was born. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up with the pair of them. Especially if their fights were as volatile as his Father described. Then a thought occurred to him and Loki frowned. 

  
“Father, how big was Grandmother Bestla?”

  
“She was average height for a Jotun,” Odin mused. “Around seven to eight feet tall if I remember right.” 

  
“Then how could Grandfather and Grandmother be together? I mean, Jotun’s, as you say are much larger than Asgardians and …well...”

  
Lok clamped his mouth shut at the look Odin shot his young son. “Not that you should be thinking such things,” he said. “But seidr is a wondrous thing. It can perform many miracles. That’s all you need to know.”

  
“Yes Father,” Loki quickly agreed.

  
“Bestla was a wonderful Mother and great warrior. She could have been any species in the Nine and my Father, Brothers and I would still have loved her just as fiercely. Do you understand what I am saying to you, my son?”

  
“I think so,” Loki said. “It doesn’t matter where you’re from, your history or race, everyone can be good or bad and we shouldn’t judge.” Odin hummed in agreement, but Loki still frowned, wiggling closer to his Father and he said softly. “But it’s so hard Father.”

  
“I know my son, I know.”

  
“They left me,” Loki muttered, his face which was pressed against his Father’s shoulder starting to get wet as tears fell. “They left me alone. Why? Why would they do that?”

  
“I have no answers for you, my little Loki,” Odin held him tighter. “But know that at the moment I found you, you became my, your Mother’s and Brother’s treasure. You complete our family in a way we never saw and though this may sound cruel, I am grateful to Laufey for leaving you as I could not imagine a life without you.”

  
Loki shivered, the words were blunt but honest, and Loki took them how his Father meant them. That Odin, Frigga and Thor, would never have been the same without him in their lives. It eased Loki’s feelings of abandonment, but not his anger nor curiosity to how that ended up being his fate. 

  
But he voiced none of this to his Father, instead he simply crawled closer to him, enjoying the contact he rarely got from his Father, who was both King and parent to the whole realm.   
“I love you Father.”

  
“And I you.”  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Hope everyone is doing alright and can't wait to see the back of 2020 in the next few hours (depending on where you live of course). I really wanted to get the next chapter of this out before the new year as I will be slowing down when we get into 2021 due to life stuff. Anyway hopefully this will be enough to tide you all over.
> 
> Huge thanks as always for the kudos and comments. I appreciate them all and I do try to respond when I can, like I said life his hectic at the minute.
> 
> Enough prattling from me. Time for the important stuff. Chapter 3. Enjoy!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 3 **

That night Loki slept well. His Father, after their talk on the veranda had taken the Young Prince off to bed, going so far as to tuck the Young Prince between his sheets. Loki would have normally protested such an action, he was no longer a baby, but with his minor break down he’d felt washed out and tired. Plus, he enjoyed his Father’s closeness, even though he would never admit to it after the fact.

He’d been so tired that Leif had had a hard time rousing him, but eventually he’d been pushed from his bed, into a bath and then placed on his usual podium for Leif to dress him in his outfit for the day.

“Did you e…enjoy the feast last n…night, Prince Loki?” Leif asked as he fussed with the simple green tunic, buttoning it up the front as Loki stood with his head high to ensure it didn’t catch on his skin.

“It was fine.”

“I’m s…sure the court were e…excited,” Leif said. “What with the J…Jotun’s being there.”

Loki hummed. “More tense than excited I would say. There have not been Jotun’s on Asgard since before the Great War.”

“A…are they really as b…big as people say?”

“Bigger I think, the female was ten foot tall.”

Leif gaped and Loki laughed. “Truly?”

“Aye. King Helblindi introduced her as Angrboða, one of their Sedirmasters.”

“I didn’t know J…Jotun’s had Seidrmasters.”

“All beings of the Nine realms have access to seidr,” Loki explained. “The Midgardians less so than the other realms but it is not insular to one race.”

“Who else was part of the d…delegation.”

“A Lord Thrym,” Loki frowned. “He’s an elder, the Jotun equivalent to the Council of Nine I believe. He seemed as though he’d rather not be here.”

“If he is old then he p…probably fought in the Great W…War,” Leif mused.

“It’s a wonder why he chose to come with the delegation then. His hatred of my Father was obvious, I thought the Council would threaten war if he kept up with his attitude.”

“He must have his r…reasons.” Leif finished with the tunic and moved to claim a pair of boots. Kneeling before the Young Prince he waited for Loki to lift his foot before sliding the boot into place. “What o…of the King?”

“What?”

“King H…Helblindi. What was he like?”

Loki didn’t answer straight away, for once unsure of how to respond. “He was not what I expected.”

“H…How so?”

“He was … nice.” Admitting it was harder than Loki thought it would be, but he couldn’t hide from the truth of it. King Helblindi had been nice, polite and refined. He’d shone at the feast, dazzled the Asgardians who had taken the plunge to speak to him. They'd gushed over his manners and demeanour, which was completely at odds with his fearsome visage. Even the servants had no unkind words, commenting on how grateful the Jotun King was of their service, a rare thing with the some of the noble class they were used to hosting during events.

“Did you expect h…him not to be?”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Loki said. “Have you heard anything from the people? What of their thoughts.”

“N…naturally they are wary,” Leif admitted, though a fierce look of anger washed over his face. “I have had to have w…words with my bro … I…I mean some of the younger g…guards to keep their mouths shut.”

Loki winced, knowing who Leif was speaking of. Leif’s brother had finally joined the guard, though it had yet to curb the sharp tongue he had. Luckily Leif’s confidence had developed from their adventure on Midgard and was more than ready to go toe to toe with his older brother.

“They are worried then?” Loki asked.

“No more than a…anyone else,” Leif shrugged. “It has been a long time s…since anyone has truly interacted with J…Jotun’s. It has hard to shed some of the b…beliefs which had sparked up after the Great War.”

Loki nodded, that was understandable, but it didn’t make anything easier. He glanced at Leif. “What of you? What do you think?”

“I have not had the p…pleasure of meeting K…King Helblindi,” Leif answered as he fitted the second boot than began to lace the fronts of both with nimble fingers. “But I’m s…sure he will be joy to get to know.”

“How do you know that?”

Leif finished with the laces and stood up with a smile. “Because if he is anything like another J…Jotun I happen to know, then I’m sure he will be g…good company.”

Loki couldn’t help but gape, even as Leif turned away and began regaling him with the schedule of the day.

***

Loki sighed as he closed the door to the Royal Library, leaning against it as he rubbed a hand through his hair.

“Honestly, it’s not as though I’m falling behind,” he muttered angrily. His lessons with the Master he’d just left behind had placed him in a foul mood. Since his return from Midgard all of his Masters that were in charge of his education seemed to be insistent on pushing him. Usually he didn’t mind a challenge, relished it even, but these last few days his heart just hadn’t been in it. Normally he would have told the Masters his troubles but this time that was impossible. He couldn’t admit to his worries about the Jotun’s without first explaining why, and that was something Loki couldn’t do. He wouldn’t risk it.

So that left him in the state of simply baring his Masters angry frustration at his inattention. It was infuriating and made his seidr wither under its bindings, but Loki would endure. Hopefully things would be over soon enough.

A chime echoed through the hall, signalling the hour. As another rang out Loki spat a curse, pushing himself away from the door to dash off down the hallway. He hadn’t realised how late his Master had made him stay. He needed to head back to his chambers and change before meeting his Cohort in the afternoon. He wouldn’t even get the chance to eat because of the late hour.

Barrelling round a corner, Loki gasped as a figure suddenly rose up before him. Not fast enough to stop his momentum Loki crashed into a hard body, which he bounced off to land on his rear, hard.

He hissed, eyes closing as pain shot up his back.

“Are you well, Prince Loki?”

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry that I … Sif?”

Loki couldn’t help it, his eyes widened as he stared up at the usually sneering warrior woman, but who was staring at him with a tint of concern on her now blank face.

“Yes,” she said, voice as cool and calm as her emotionless face. “Are you sure you’re alright, Prince Loki?”

“I…yes, I’m fine.” Loki tried to scramble to his feet, only to end up in a tangle of arms and legs in his rush. He would have ended up back on his back when a firm hand grabbed his arm, steadying him.

“Careful,” the admonishment was soft, but a flash of fear that rippled through Loki as memories assaulted him. Of Sif standing over him, ready and willing to kill him.

He ripped his arm from her grasp and took a hasty step away. “Don’t touch me,” he whispered, curing his arms close to his body, as though to make himself as small as possible.

Sif was left standing there, arm frozen outstretched before her as she watched the Young Prince huddle in on himself like a frightened rabbit. Loki tried his best to calm his breathing, which had picked up due to the adrenalin the memories had sent coursing through his system, but he was having little luck with it.

Sif watched him a moment, then took a small step towards him. The action had Loki’s panic spiking and he flinched. Sif stopped, then carefully she held out her hands palm up.

“Prince Loki, please, I’m not going to harm you.”

“I…I know that,” Loki gasped. “Just … just give me a minuet. Take a step back.”

Sif frowned, but did as he said. Even though part of his mind was screaming not to, Loki closed his eyes, blocking out the world so he could concentrate. He knew, logically, that Sif wasn’t going to hurt him. She couldn’t, he was in the palace, he could call guards and they would come running and Sif would be arrested or in more likelihood, killed for daring to harm a member of the Royal family. So that meant he was fine. He was safe. He wasn’t in danger from her.

As he continued to chant the mantra in his mind, Loki’s breathing evened out. His panic settled into something manageable as his logical thoughts gave him peace and stability that the fright of Sif being right there, alone with him, had sent flying out of the window. When he finally felt like he had himself under control, he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes.

Unfortunately, Sif was still there, studying him carefully, like one would a spooked horse. “Is all well now, Prince Loki?”

The question was said with no malice, but Loki still drew himself up and said crisply. “Yes, Lady Sif. Thank you, but I must -”

“It was me, wasn’t it? I was the one to cause you to panic.”

Loki blinked, but quickly recovered from his shock. “What? You? No, no. I was simply startled, I’m late for my -”

“Prince Loki, there is no need to lie to me. I am well aware of what my past actions were. I should not have been so shocked to see that you still suffer from them even now.”

Loki was sure he hadn’t been successful in keeping the blatant surprise off his face this time. But he couldn’t help it. He’d known Sif for most of his life and he’d never seen he look so contrite before.

“I…I…”

Sif sighed, her blank mask cracking as she ran a hand through her short hair. “I know this might not be the time or the place for it, especially with what just happened, but I have been meaning to speak to you, Prince Loki.”

“Speak to me?”

“Aye,” Sif said, she glanced at him and Loki could see the indecision in her eyes. But still it didn’t take long for the familiar resolve to return and she crossed the distance between the two swiftly. Loki had to stop himself from jumping back at the sudden action, but it was impossible to stop the squeak that passed his lips and Sif went down in her knees before him, head bowed so it touched the floor.

“I know I have no right, in fact I know what I ask is impudent and I should never have even sought to do this, but please, I ask of you Prince Loki, to please forgive me from my heinous acts towards you.”

Loki gazed at the prostrate woman before him. Never in all of his years had he thought that he would see this. Sif was strong, uncompromising, never one to back down from her convictions. Sure, they were annoying at times, but it was that which, when Loki had been younger, had made it so fun to push her buttons. But now seeing her like this, something inside Loki just couldn’t comprehend it. Though at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a sick vindication.

“I…Sif I don’t …I -”

A sigh came from the woman. “I understand. I should have expected it. I do not deserve your forgiveness.”

“I didn’t say -”

“You don’t have to, Prince Loki,” she said. “I know now that my actions were unbecoming of someone of my station. My purpose is to serve Asgard and her Royal family, until my death if that is what is required.”

Loki shivered; the words chilled him. He’d never thought about it before, but it was true. Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, Hogan, Leif, every guard and member of the einherjar in the palace and beyond. Their purpose was to serve Asgard and in turn the Royal family. They would lay down their lives for them. It was a sobering thought to the Young Prince and made him wonder if he was worthy of such devotion. He glanced at Sif, who was still knelt before him. He pondered exactly what Sif had been through with the Northern Boarder patrol, to have her swearing such fealty, when before Sif’s one true goal was to serve Thor, even at the expense of Asgard.

A creak of leather signalled Sif coming to her feet. She still didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes firmly averted.

“It seems there is still much I need to prove, not only to you but to myself.”

“Prove?”

“Aye. I know now how little I knew. How ignorant I was.” She shook her head. “I still have so far to go.”

“I think you’re doing alright.” Loki’s admission had Sif twitching. In the old days he was sure it would have earned him a snide comment or sneer, now he got a ghost of a smile, even as she still refused to look at him.

“You honour me, Prince Loki,” Sif bowed again. “I hope that I can continue on the right path I have been fortunate enough to be placed upon. With the changing times, maybe we all can learn something. The Jotun’s finally being welcomed onto Asgard openly, I’m sure, is only the first step down a road to our two realms finally coming to a true and everlasting peace.”

Those eyes suddenly shot to him and Loki knew, in that brief moment of contact that Sif knew for sure, just what he was. She had accused him during the coup, building on what Amora had said to come to her own conclusion, thinking him a Jotun spy of some kind. But now while she may know that he was, indeed, Prince Loki, second Prince of Asgard, she also was aware that he truly was Jotun. It made Loki wonder how she had found out. Perhaps his Father had told her, or had she simply figured it out. In either case, she hadn’t told anyone. Not Thor, or any of the other members of the Warriors Three. The old Sif would have taken great delight in ruining everything for Loki. The change in her was startling now that Loki was beginning to understand how deep it ran.

“If you will excuse me, Prince Loki, but I must return to my duties.”

“Of course,” Loki inclined his head as Sif bowed. “You are on guard duty?”

“I have been assigned to see to the escorting of the Lords and Ladies of the court from the palace,” she grimaced. “It seems there has been some confusion with the Jotun delegation.”

“Confusion?” Loki asked.

“Aye. King Helblindi has insisted upon a closed meeting with only the AllFather and the Council. It has certainly upset many of the Nobles, though I’m sure they will get their chance to cluck and gossip about the Jotun’s during the rest of their stay here.”

Loki stared; his surprise clear on his face. Having a closed council meeting was not something that was unheard of. The King sometimes only called the Council of Nine privately to discuss the running of Asgard, that was after all what the Council was in place for. But when it came to inter-realm politics, Odin had always strove to include the court, mainly to stop any whispering campaigns from the more ambitious Nobles, but it also allowed the people of Asgard to remain aware of any delicate situations with other realms that may affect businesses, such as trade or travel.

But this time the Jotun’s have requested a private meeting and it had tongues wagging. Loki wondered why they would do such a thing. What did they have to say that they couldn’t share in front of the rest of the Nobility? This was their chance to show the people of Asgard exactly what the Jotun’s were like after nearly one thousand years of exile. What did they have to hide?

“Prince Loki? Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine,” Loki waved a hand and smiled. “Well, you best be returning to your duty and I have my own business that I must attend to. Thank you, Lady Sif.”

Sif gave him a brief look over, eyes awash with concern and a little disbelief, but still she bowed and walked away. Loki watched her go, the strangeness of being face to face with her again, along with the apology now paling in comparison to the news she had brought.

A closed meeting with the Jotun King. What would be said there? Why make the request instead of following the procedure done by all the other realms that have visited Asgard? What did Helblindi not want to share?

The thoughts swirled and Loki clenched his fists. He wanted to know. No, he needed to know. But a closed meeting meant exactly that. Closed. Loki my be a Prince, but he was the much Younger Prince. If he had been older, he may have been able to swindle his way inside, but that was impossible. He could ask Thor, but he was sure his Brother would be tight lipped about anything the Jotun’s had to say, knowing how it would affect his younger Brother and feeling the need to protect him. Loki shook his head. He didn’t need protection, he needed answers, answers to the questions that plagued him. That stopped him from fully embracing his Jotun nature. And that meeting could hold answers. Kings were far more likely to tell secrets that they would never normally share when it was only the most trusted that were in attendance, there was no need for the pomp and ceremony that came when dealing with the whole court.

But how could Loki get in? Not only was would the meeting be guarded, but Loki had to be at the Cohort.

Loki smirked. He always did enjoy a challenge.

***

Loki made sure not to be seen as he drifted closer to the Throne room. Luckily, there were hardly any guards around, most having been directed to deal with the disgruntled Nobility, leaving only those behind to watch the great doors which led into the Throne room and the unprecedented meeting happening within.

Loki had managed to situate himself just out of sight, peering round a corner of a hallway that usually led people further into the palace. He took a brief look behind him to be sure no one was milling around. With his seidr blocked by his Mother’s powerful seal he didn’t have access to one of his most favoured spells. The invisibility spell would have proven useful for what he was about to do, but it was still doable, only there would be more risk.

The Young Prince eyed the guards as they stood with their backs, straight and proud before the Throne room doors. They wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. Biting his lip, Loki cast his gaze about until they landed on pieces of old ceremonial armour that had been mounted on the wall at the other side of the great doors. It wasn’t unusual, the hallways that led to the Throne room were all heavily decorated, no doubt to impress any guests and Nobles. Loki had thought that it was ridiculous and felt sorry for the palace servants who were tasked with polishing the things, carefully so they wouldn’t fall from their perch. At least now, they would come in handy.

Pulling one of the knives he kept on his belt, Loki weighed it carefully in his hand. He would have one shot at this, if he messed up the guards would spot him, and he would have some explaining to do. The note he had sent to the Master of his Cohort had given him some leeway, but he knew if he was found here, his well-constructed cover would come tumbling down about his ears. Along with the inevitable wrath of his Mother and Father. Taking a breath Loki flipped the knife over once. As he caught it, he stepped out of his cover and flung the knife at the armour. It felt just like he did when he practised with his Mother. A smooth continuous movement, the hilt of the knife sliding from his hand so that it flew end over end towards his target. The mere seconds seemed to stretch on forever, only coming to a halt when his aim struck true. The knife knocked into the helmet that was perched at the top of the displayed armour. It wobbled, the teetered off, only to crash into a spear, which hung beside it, which in turn dislodged and fell into the best armour. The whole display was soon dis-stabilised and crashed to the ground, the sound echoing up the hallway and startling the two guards, who flinched before turning and running over to see what had happened.

Loki didn’t hesitate, he ran. His feet silently padding across the once well watched space. He stopped at the wall, fingers frantically running down it until he felt a depression in the stones. With a gentle push he heard a faint flick and a part of the wall slid out to reveal a passage. Loki smiled, quickly ducking inside, avoiding the eyes of the fussing guards, who didn’t see the wall lock back into place, too busy worrying if they should tell their superiors or simply clean up the armour before any of the servants stumbled upon the mess.

In the darkness of the passage, Loki let out a relieved breath. The plan had been a success and he’d made it. With a brief wave of his hand he gathered what little seidr he could into a ball of light. It was no where near the usual brightness he was capable of, but it did enough to light the passage before him. It was small and narrow; he caught the shadow of a few torches set into the wall. It was to be expected though, after all the servant’s passages were a well-kept secret among the palace staff. Loki himself had never heard of them, until Leif had spilled the beans. The boy hadn’t meant to, he’d not even wanted to, but his hand had been forced when Loki caught him closing the entrance that led into his rooms. Loki had demanded an explanation and Leif, in his terrified stutter had told all.

The passages were as old as the palace itself, built into the framework and led everywhere. They snaked through the small spaces between the walls, weaving and interconnecting together. There were even small rooms where servants used to sleep, along with ancient looking bathrooms and seating areas. It was said that in the old days, servants only ever used the passages to get around, never stepping out into the great hallways and corridors of the palace. A servant, Leif had explained to a fascinated Loki, was never to be seen, but always to be ready to serve. The saying was old fashioned and arrogant, but Loki was now grateful to his ancestors’ pompous attitude as it gave him a way to spy on his Father’s meeting without being seen himself.

After checking that the passage entrance was firmly concealed, Loki set off. It was hard going, the space narrow and the dust getting caught in his lungs and making him want to sneeze. Loki wondered how the adult servants even managed to get through the passages. Though Leif had said not many servants still used them, though the young servants often took the time to explore their depths.

The distant sound of voices floated down the passage. Loki picked up his pace until the voices, though indistinct due to the stone surrounding him, were loud enough that he knew he had to be in the Throne room. Directing his light at the walls Loki was grateful to see what looked like a shutter, embedded into the wall, the bottom connected to a piece of rope, which hung limp and lifeless beneath. Loki eyed the thing dubiously; Leif had explained the peepers to him. Small slits in the passage wall which looked out into the most important rooms in the Palace. Loki had nearly thrown a fit when Leif had told him and had made sure to check his own room thoroughly, though Leif had explained that Loki had nothing to worry about with that room as the Royal private spaces, such as bedchambers were off limits. In any case the shutters would have concealed any peepers from view and were usually strategically placed out of eyesight, so the servants could see what was happening and know if they were needed, without being seen themselves.

Picking up the frayed rope, Loki dismissed his light. Slowly he pulled until the bottom part of the shutter lifted. He continued to gather the rope until a small slit cast light into the dusty passage. The weight of the shutter was heavy, and Loki felt about for something to hook the rope onto. Finding a convenient piece of rock just above him he twinned the rope around it. Once he was sure it was secure Loki steeled himself, then stepped up to look through the small slit and peep into the Throne room.

The Council of Nine were gathered around the bottom of the steps which led up to Hlidskjalf. They were buzzing like bees, whispering and muttering, which was to be expected with the three large Jotuns who stood out in their midst. Loki eyed King Helblindi, the King of Jotunheim was wearing similar attire to when he had arrived in, through the deep red coloured hide which had covered his lower regions had been replaced with a thick black fur which stood out in the bright lights of the Throne room. Thrym and Angrboða seemed unchanged, though the older male Jotun eyed the Council with disgust. Angrboða stood tall and impassive over the lot of them. Loki couldn’t help but feel intrigued by her. Helblindi had said she was Seidrmaster and though her power was not something that would come close to his Mother’s, the feel of it was very interesting. Even with the distance between them, Loki could taste the cold snap of winter which clung to the female Jotun’s seidr.

“I do not see why this meeting had be private,” one of the Council of Nine grumbled, bringing Loki from where his mind had tumbled. “This has caused a stir with the Court; they will be after our heads at the next gathering.”

"The reasons for our King to request this private audience are of no concern to you, Asgardian," Thrym spat. "Besides, its not as though you're great Crown Prince had decided to grace us with his overbearing presence, didn't even bother to send an excuse. But then again you Asgardians seem to think the realms revolve around you."

Loke frown at the Jotun's words, green eyes flicking over the Throne room once more. It was true, Thor was missing which was strange. His Brother had been taking his duties as Crown Prince very seriously and Loki was sure he would not have wanted to miss a meeting with the Jotun's, knowing what it meant to Loki. So, where was he?

The Councillor bristled and looked ready to argue, but a clang of metal on stone soon silenced him.

"This is indeed puzzling," Odin said, even while sat upon his throne Loki thought his Father was still intimidating. The power and confidence he exuded was something Loki wondered if he would ever gain. His Father had the ability to bring a room to order with a simple gesture. Some would say it was because he was the King, but Loki knew that could not be all. There was something, something which Odin had that drew people to him and made them believe in him. Thor had it to, though it seemed he was only just starting to grown into it. Loki ferently hoped that when he was grown he would also be granted this gift, the mischief he could perform would be a sight to behold. 

Odin turned his one eyed gaze on the Young King, who didn't flinch. "Speak plain King Helblindi, what is it you wish that you did not want to say before the Court."

Helblindi stepped forward, bowing his head slightly before lifting his fearsome red eyes and locking them with Odin's.

“I wish to speak of the Casket of Ancient winters.”

The one sentence was enough to have the Council in another up roar. Loki saw Thrym and Angrboða tense beside their King, ready for anything as the Council of Nine continued to protest angrily.

“Prosperous!”

“How impudent, bringing up such a subject.”

“He has no right.”

“What of the Casket?” Odin asked, effectively silencing his Councillors.

“As you no doubt are aware the Casket houses within it the fury of a thousand storms,” Helblindi said. “It was used by my Father, King Laufey as a weapon. Most know of its use against the mortals of Midgard, though few are aware that the Casket was also wielded against the people of Jotunheim itself.”

Odin tilted his head, “Laufey threatened his own people?”

Helblindi bowed his head, turning to Angrboða who boldly stepped forward.

"King Laufey, though a powerful ruler was not popular among the common folk. There were many whisperd talks of rebellion, but no one would dare to actively fight against him, not after what he did to the people of Þrymheimr."

“What do you speak of, the people of Þrymheimr died of pestilence,” a Councilor scoffed.

“That’s what King Laufey made sure to tell the other realms,” Angrboða said. “The truth is that the people of Þrymheimr refused to send any more of their tax to Laufey. They said that the King’s high demands were something that they could not reach, especially so if they wished to feed themselves.” Angrboða clenched her fists tightly. “Laufey was not about to let his army, who he had already set to march against Midgard go without supplies. So, he was swift in his execution of what he called justice.”

“What do you mean?”

“He unleashed the Casket upon Þrymheimr,” Helblindi said, voice soft, sadness clear for all to hear. “He ravaged the people with storms they could not possibly beat. He surrounded the city, hemmed the people in so they could not even escape. Þrymheimr was battered by the Casket’s powerful storms for three days until there was nothing left.”

Loki was struck silent along with the Council at Helblindi’s declaration. His mind wandered back to the Vault and the Casket he had gazed upon all those years ago. It was hard to believe that such a small object could house such great power.

“What is your intention of telling us this?” Odin asked.

“Only to make you aware that we know the power of the Casket, especially if it is misused,” Helblindi said. “Which is why I know it will not be well received when I ask that you consider returning the Casket to Jotunheim.”

Helblindi’s words had never been truer. The Council gasped, most began to squawk indignantly, while others even went to pull their weapons.

“You must have fallen to madness if you believe we would be willing to return such a powerful weapon to the Jotun,” a Councillor hurled at the King, who had not moved from his place, eyes fixed upon Odin on his throne.

“The Casket, no matter how it was used is still a relic of Jotunheim,” Angrboða said calmly.

“One that the Jotun have no right to be using. Besides, Asgard claimed it upon your defeat.”

“Claimed? Don’t you mean stole?” Thrym returned the barb with so much venom Loki was sure that the Councillor would drop dead under the onslaught.

“You cannot steal which you won.”

“You Asgardians have no idea what you took when you stole the Casket,” Thrym said, turning from his King to face the Councillor head on. “But that is always the way with Asgardians. Blindly charging in without a thought. Not even bothering to differentiate between threat or not. Ravaging everything in their path simply because they can.”

“How dare you!”

The crack of Odin’s spear against the floor halted any further words. Loki's eyes snapped to his Father; his regal face impassive as he stared down at the Young Jotun King.

“Your request is unfathomable, yet I find myself curious. Why would the King of Jotunheim ask for the return of the Casket when he knows that it would be a fruitless endeavour?”

Thrym scowled and looked ready to turn his rage on Odin, but Helblindi quickly gripped his shoulder to silence him.

“I am aware that what I ask for is not something Odin AllFather would ever expect, but I have reason.”

“Which is?”

“Jotunheim is dying.”

Loki flinched, the words were blunt and to the point. Odin stiffened on his throne, then leaded forward.

“What do you speak of?”

“Exactly what I stated, Jotunheim, the realm itself is collapsing.”

“Impossible!”

“You talk nonsense!”

“The Jotun’s are finally losing all their sense!”

Odin held up his hand and silence fell. “This a serious statement to claim.”

“I do not claim it,” Helblindi replied. “I know it. The ice is already starting to crack and melt away due to the air getting hotter. Soon the animals will begin to die, the crops we are barely able to grow will wither and die. Then the Jotun will starve and eventually cease to exist, long before the realm itself collapses.”

A heavy air followed the proclamation. Loki stood in his hiding spot, watching the shocked and disbelieving faces of the Council of Nine. It was hard for him to take in, he’d never heard of a realm dying before. Of course, he knew that all of the Nine Realms had seidr flowing through them, they were connected by Yggdrasil after all, which itself was made of powerful natural seidr. But to think that Jotunheim was dying, what had happened to the realms seidr?

“How long has it been apparent that such an event is taking place?” Odin asked, much to the surprise of his Council.

“My King, you cannot say you believe this madness?!” one Councillor had the audacity to say.

“A few centuries,” Helblindi said, the two Kings too invested in their conversation to pay attention to any outside forces. “Angrboða was the first to bring the realms state of decline before the Elders,” the Jotun King nodded at the tall, female Jotun who inclined her head. “Of course, there was debate over whether or not what she spoke of was true. My father, Laufey certainly didn’t believe it.” Helblindi shook his head depreciatively. “But some decided to research, look into the old archives and found something which distressed us all.”

“And that was?”

“The Casket of Ancient Winters was not just a weapon, as my Father and so many others believed, it was the heart of our realm. The anchor point that helped to stabilise the natural seidr of our realm.”

“What does that mean?” a councillor asked.

“The seidr of Jotunheim is fearsome,” it was Angrboða who answered. “Our realm is harsh, but it has many natural elements. It was why so long in the past we were praised as jewellers and craftsmen. The seidr of Jotunheim is a creative force, one that makes life. It is a force of nature. But like many others, it can become destructive if left alone and untended.”

“That doesn’t make -”

“The Casket helped to the calm the torrents of seidr which flowed and fed our realm,” Angrboða explained. “It soothed and directed the fierce storms which used to run rampart across Jotunheim. In short, it allowed the natural seidr not to turn on itself, which is what it has now begun to do.”

More muttering broke out amongst the Council. Loki had to bite his tongue to hold in a gasp of shock. What Angrboða was saying sounded insane. Loki had never heard of anything like she was describing. He had studied Asgard’s natural seidr, it was usually a soft and steady flow, that imbued the realm and kept it alive. After all, how could a species expect to live on a planetoid in the middle of space if seidr wasn’t involved. But as far as Loki was aware, Asgard had nothing which aided in stabilising its flow. He’d never heard of anything of the like on Vanaheim or any of the other realms. But then again, every realms seidr was different, he’d noticed that from his time on Midgard. So, it was possible that Jotunheim’s seidr was simply that powerful that it needed something to take the edge off, and that thing just happed to be the Casket.

“But wait, the Casket has been gone from your realm for over one thousand years. Why now have you only just considered to bring this to our attention?”

The question was preceded with a round of nods. Odin tilted his own head at the Young Jotun King, who took a breath as though to steady himself.

“For many years, out people believed just as you did, that the Casket was simply a weapon made by our ancestors. Those that could have told us differently they … they no longer walked among us, and this is our shame to carry.” Helblindi looked away and Loki was surprised when Thrym placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Perhaps it is punishment for what was done to them, the price for our hatred and our willingness to let such an atrocity to pass.”

Loki wondered what Helblindi was talking about, but before anyone could enquire further, he pressed on. “Jotunheim’s seidr started showing signs of change a few centuries ago. Like I said before, the concerns were mostly dismissed, but those that delved further,” he nodded to Angrboða. “Eventually found evidence that could not be refuted. But by that time, King Laufey had fallen so far. He turned his back on our pleas, on our begging that he consider opening talks once more with Asgard, so that we could explain our plight.” Helbindi sighed. “My Father would not hear of it, and his closest was in full support of his actions, whether through fear or ignorance I know not. It split the Elders and the people. That was the state of things when my Father was drawn into a plot against the Royal family of Asgard.” He looked up at Odin. “Against you, AllFather and was subsequently killed. I have had many challenges and tragedies in my rise to the throne. But now that my position is secure, I have come before you to plead our case, and hope that you will consider my words.”

Odin sat still on his throne, no one moved as the King of Asgard took in what had been said, weighing it up to make a decision.

“It is my understanding then, that Jotunheim is asking for the Casket of Ancient Winters to be returned to their realm?”

“Aye.”

“Then I am sorry, but it cannot be done as you wish. There are -”

“By Mimir, I knew you were heartless Odin one-eye,” Thrym spat. Loki flinched when he saw the look of pure fury on the Jotun’s face, one he wasn’t afraid to direct to the King of Asgard in his own hall. “But I never thought even you would be wiling to watch an entire race slowly wither and disappear into extinction. What happened? Have you forgotten your ancestors? Or are you simply ashamed?”

“How dare you!” one of the Councillors cried. “You keep your filthy mouth shut, you Jotun scum!”

“I will say what I like!” Thrym argued, not even twitching as the Councillors continued to bristle with impotent anger on behalf of their King. “I have long since stopped worrying about the power of so-called Kings,” he sneered at Odin, who, while his face appeared impassive, clutched Gungnir tightly. “Bestla would have been -”

“Thrym!” it was Helblindi who surprisingly cut off his Elder, though it seemed it would do little good as the old Jotun whirled to face his own King, all to ready and willing to continue with his harsh tirade.

“Yet.” The one word was spoken quiet, but firmly. It grabbed the rapidly bickering audience, who stilled to turn their faces up to the AllFather.

“My King?”

“Lord Thrym, as is his way, did not allow me to finish my proclamation before he found it appropriate to chastise me on my actions,” Odin said, which infuriated the Jotun even more. But before he could retaliate, Odin turned his attention to Helblindi who stiffened under the older Kings one eye. “I cannot do as you wish, yet. Asgard has been through a number of upheavals within the last few short years. The Bifrost has only just been rebuilt and stability returned to the rest of the Nine. It would not be prudent to insert any large changes right now.”

“It is not the fault of Jotunheim that you cannot control your own people,” Thrym scoffed.

“Amora has caused havoc on two realms in a short space of time,” Odin said. “Her partial destruction of the Bifrost has caused even more unrest. I am simply saying that instituting a change in the current status quo, when some realms are only just beginning to recover, would not be in anyone’s interest.”

“The Witch Amora is the responsibility of Asgard and your dealing with her should not impeach business with the other realms,” Thrym argued.

“I have heard many tales of Amora the Enchantress,” Angrboða interceded. “Her power and fall to madness has been the talk of many a seidr user. A warning for us all to be sure, but she has now been caught has she not?”

Odin’s eye twitched as he nodded. “Aye. Tried for treason, conspiracy, murder and the invasion of a peaceful realm. She will not be seeing the light of day again.”

“Then the matter is closed,” Thrym said, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “The Witch is a none issue. It’s time to move on AllFather.”

Loki watched stunned as his Father bowed his head, though only slightly. “If only things were as simple as Lord Thrym seems to think, then I would happily oblige to Young King Helblindi’s request. But it just is not so.”

“An excuse. You just want -”

“What would it take, Odin AllFather?” Helblindi asked, though Loki thought his tone verged on the edge of begging. “Jotunheim cannot survive without the Casket and I will not let my people suffer when there is something I can do about it. Name your terms.”

Odin stared at the Jotun King, “how long, by your estimations, does Jotunheim have left before things reach a point of no return?”

Helblindi frowned, turning to Angrboða. “The realms seidr is becoming wilder, the weathers fury is increasing, but the systems we have managed to put in place to calm the tide seem to be working. I would estimate we have at least another two hundred and fifty Midgardian years before we reach a point where we would no longer be able to stop Jotunheim’s seidr from becoming uncontrollable, with or without the Casket.”

“Then there is time,” Odin said, sitting straighter on his throne. “I cannot give you the Casket now. But I am open to negotiation. Jotunheim has time to prove itself, regain its reputation within the Nine. Set itself apart from its dark past.”

“We have to earn our Casket back? You jest Odin?” Thrym snarled.

“If you had not proved yourselves unworthy of it, this would not be an issue, Lord Thrym,” Odin snapped. “The Jotun’s reputation among the Nine is in shambles due to Laufey’s actions. He cut you off.” He looked to Helblindi, who was watching the older King intently. “The rest of the Nine Realms would be deeply troubled if I was to hand over the Casket to you now. With no proof that you will not turn its fury on yet another realm in a wish to conquer. With the time Lady Angrboða says you have, you have the chance to show the Nine what a true force Jotunheim is and how, under the right leadership, can become a shining beacon once again.”

The Councillors whispered frantically to each other, all as shocked as each other at the Allfather’s announcement. Loki, from his unseen hiding spot was speechless. It was something he never thought he would ever hear coming from his Father. Odin was right in that the rest of the Nine was still uneasy around Jotun’s. Laufey had done a good job of segregating his own people from the Nine and absence does not make the heart grow fonder, especially if coupled with news of invasions, bloodshed and war. If Odin was to simply hand over the Casket now, the other realms would be sure to rise up in protest to such a hasty action. But even with the deal Odin had offered, the AllFather was playing with fire. Loki had to wonder what could have prompted such a heavy-handed move from the usually reserved and cautious King he knew.

“Those are your conditions?” Helblindi eventually asked and Odin nodded. “Very well, I will agree.”

“My King,” Thrym tried to protest, but he was ignored.

“Though I will add the provisions that it will not be only Asgard who decides whether Jotunheim is worthy of the Caskets return. It will be a majority vote by those in the Nine, also our situation is to be assessed once every Midgardian year.”

A snort came from the Councillors. “The Jotun King thinks we can easily gather the top echelons of the realms at his whim. He has much to learn.”

“Very well.” Loki would have laughed at the look on the Councillors face at Odin’s agreement if it wouldn’t have got him caught. “It will be a majority vote, assessed annually by the Midgardian count. You have my word and my bond, King Helblindi.”

“You have my word and my bond, King Odin.”

Odin slammed the butt of Gungnir to the floor and Loki felt a swell of seidr, sealing the pact between the two Kings, tighter than any words or written text could. The Councillors and Helblindi’s delegation all looked put out, but their thoughts were inconsequential before their Kings.

“Thank you, King Odin,” Helblindi said. Odin nodded.

“I’m sure we all will not be disappointed,” the old King said, a small smile cracking his lips. “The young after all, are the future. I see it every day in my own sons, I look forward to seeing the changes you all will forge, especially when I can sit back, relax and watch you all at work.”

Helblindi laughed, “I’m sure your sons still have time to give you grey hairs.”

“More than you know. Loki has not yet reached adulthood, I’m sure he has more trials and tribulations to thrown at me, whether I sit on this throne or not.”

Helblindi laughed again and Odin announced a recess, mentioning offhand that Frigga would be waiting for them, along with food and beverages. Loki decided then to slip away, not willing to risk his Mother’s wrath, probably having found out his leave of absence from the Cohort and telling his Father he had disappeared.

Lowering the shutter, Loki swiftly departed, summoning light to his palm to guide his way. Soon enough he was back at the entrance, opening it carefully before poking his head out to take a look around. The corridor was surprisingly empty, even the guards were gone, though with the meeting concluded there was no need for their presence anymore.

Taking one last cautious look around, Loki slipped out and sprinted away from the Throne room. Once safely far enough away he slowed down, not wanting to draw any suspicious attention to himself. He took a moment to get his breath, leaning up against a wall, all the while his mind started to sort and filter all he had heard during the meeting.

It had not been what he had expected whatsoever, though on reflection he could understand why Helblidni would wish for the meeting to be private. The knowledge that Jotunheim was dying was not something Loki had ever thought possible. Of course, he knew that stars grew old and blinked out of existence once reaching a certain age, but the Nine Realms were powered and created by natural seidr, practically a living force. He never once imaged that same seidr could in turn destroy its own realm.

Then there was the deal. The return of the Casket that was bartered between the two Kings. It was a historic moment, one that was sure to cause waves when Odin announced it, which would not be for a while yet. Odin would want to get the details ironed out, a process that could take months of negotiations. But once through it would shake the Nine Realms unlike anything in the last thousand years. Loki smirked a little at the thought of the chaos it would cause, he wasn’t called the little god of Mischief for nothing.

With his breath under control, Loki straightened, making an executive decision to return to his own chambers, he set off. While his thoughts on the meeting as a whole were fairly easy to sort through, there were other things which stood out. One was Helblindi’s story of Laufey. It was what Loki had expected, but it was still not pleasant to hear, considering his own connection to the former Jotun King. It made the familiar worry, one that whispered to him and fed on his insecurities that possibly one day, he could turn out just like the Jotun. They shared blood after all. He quickly swept them away, but they lingered like a miasma, ready to return at a moments notice.

The second note was Thrym. The old Elder was fearsome, but Loki had to wonder where the animosity to his Father came from. He was well aware that Odin was probably not well liked among the Jotun. Not after his victory during the Great War. But with Thrym it seemed to be personal. Loki thought back, he didn’t once remember the name Thrym being brought up, nor had he heard of him through outside forces. It gnawed at Loki’s curiosity and he felt the familiar itch to investigate, but he shoved it aside, now was not the time to be indulging in his curiosity, but it still plagued him.

The Young Prince was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realised his feet had brought him to the doors which led to the Royal quarters. Nor did he hear the harsh whispers of people by the doors, one lingering outside while another opened one of the doors and stepped inside. It was only when Loki bumped into someone that he finally dragged himself out of his thoughts.

“You shouldn’t linger outside the doors. You’ll get in -” Loki’s polite reprimand fell on his tongue as he looked up at the person he had collided with. Her clothing was nothing like any Asgardian, Noble or otherwise would wear. He recognised the blue trousers she wore as jeans, boots with a small heal decorated her feet, along with a thick jumper and coat which didn’t seem to fit her properly. Blonde hair crowned a startled face, which stared down at him with a mixture of fright and recognition.

“Y…your Loki, right? Thor’s brother?”

Loki’s green eyes narrowed, his mind swiftly searching. He recognised this women, he’d seen her before. On Midgard. That’s right, Midgard, with Thor when –

“Jane it’s … Loki what are you doing here?”

Loki snapped his gaze to his Brother. Thor had appeared at the door, a sheepish look on his face as he glanced around then back at his Brother. “I thought you would be with the Cohort. I didn’t expect -”

“Thor what’s going on? Who is this?”

Thor’s cheeks reddened as he flicked his eyes to the Midgardian, then back to Loki. Then he sighed. “Loki, this is Jane, remember? From my first time in Midgard, she and her friends helped me.”

Loki furrowed his brow. Turning back to Jane, who shuffled uneasily under his scrutiny. Now that Thor had mentioned it, he did realise. “The one who worked with Selvig? Your lover?”

“We never did anything,” Jane protested, and Thor stuttered out a quiet admonishment.

Loki watched the pair of them stumble over themselves, all the while stealing glances at each other. Loki took the moment to enjoy their distress and embarrassment, just long enough for Thor to calm down and open his mouth when Loki struck the final blow to his Brother’s plans.

“I’m telling Mother.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> I am back! Hope everyone is having a good new year so far all things considered. Fingers crossed you are all staying safe along with family and friends. It's been a real busy couple of weeks, I'm working from home now and my computer has now become my best friend and greatest enemy! I've never wanted to smash it so much in my life at times. 
> 
> Anyway that's not what your here for. The new chapter is here! Thank you as always from your comments, kudos and just generally checking out the story. If you have any questions, let me know, I'll try my best to answer you. 
> 
> Just a bit of background here for anyone about some of the history mentioned in this chapter. I've took a few liberties of when things might have happened before the Jotun/Asgardian war. There's not a lot of information in the MCU about that time nor have I found anything online from the comics, so I made the vast majority of it up. Hopefully it adds to the context of this story and the character dynamics. 
> 
> Right so, now that's out of the way, on with the chapter!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 4 **

In the end, things did not turn out the way Loki thought they would. He had stayed true to his word and after Thor had spluttered and tried to argue Loki had ran into the Royal quarters to find his Mother, who he promptly told how Thor was sneaking his mortal lover into Asgard. Frigga had taken over from there, heading off to confront her wayward son, only for the Crown Prince to take his Mother aside to speak privately. It was then things had taken a turn.

Frigga had reappeared and after politely greeting Jane and suggesting she change her clothes into something more appropriate, escorted her, along with Thor and Loki down to the Healing Halls. Loki had watched as his Mother called for the healers to ready a Soul Forge before forcing Jane down onto one.

“What is it?” Jane asked, curiosity and wonder clear on her face as she reached out to touch the glowing table she had been placed on. The simple blue dress Loki’s Mother had provided spilled over the sides, even as it fit the mortal like a glove. Four golden rods were sat at the four corners of the table, which hummed with energy, just waiting to be used.

“Be still,” one of the Healers ordered, slapping at her hand, which earnt them a dark look from Thor. The Healers fiddled with the controls of the Soul Forge for a moment longer, then the glowing table lit up, the rods vibrating and suddenly an energy replica of the mortal’s form was hovering above Jane.

Loki heard his Mother gasp beside him, not that he could blame the Queen as even to Loki’s young eye he could see something off within the Midgardians seidr construction. Normally, Midgardians had very little, or no seidr. It was not within their genetic makeup to be able to house such energy easily. It was hypothesised that Midgardians did not live long enough for their bodies to grow adapted to handling seidr. Though with the way Midgardians were growing and evolving that could change. But it should be impossible at least for the next thousand years at least, beings didn’t evolve over night. However according to the Soul Forge and clear for anyone with trained eyes to see, the Midgardian, Jane, had more seidr in her body than should be possible.

“This energy is not of Earth,” Thor said, worry clear as his eyes flicked from the replica to Jane. “What is it?”

“We do not know, but she will not survive the amount of energy surging within her.”

Loki winced as Thor and Jane shared frightened looks. The Young Prince turned to look at his Mother, who was watching the pair with a sympathetic air. The Midgardian, as though to distract herself as the Healers continued their evaluation, glanced at the energy replica, then the Soul Forge.

“This is a quantum field generator isn’t it?”

“It’s a Soul Forge,” it was Loki who answered. Jane turned her head slightly to look at him.

“Does a Soul Forge transfer molecular energy from one place to another?” she asked. Loki raised an eyebrow at the question.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s a quantum field generator.” Thor smiled at her and Loki felt his stomach clench at the sight.

“A Soul Forge is a Soul Forge, no matter what quaint names you Midgardians decided to call them.”

Loki ignored the frowns both Thor and his Mother sent him, along with the hurt look that crossed over Jane’s face. He was glad that at that moment Odin stepped into the Healing Halls, gaining the attention of the busy Healers, who still managed to bow to their King.

“What is going on here?”

“Father,” Thor said, rounding the Soul Forge to greet Odin with a small bow. “I am sorry, but Jane is ill, and I needed to -”

“You missed an important meeting with the Jotun delegation in order to visit a mortal?”

“It wasn’t like that Father; Jane needed my help. There is something wrong with her. An illness which -”

“She is mortal. Illness is their defining trait.”

Loki watched as Thor’s expression darkened, he glanced at his Mother and saw Frigga frowning at her husband in obvious disapproval, while Jane just appeared shocked at the sudden appearance of the King of Asgard. Loki kept quiet, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. He didn’t want to risk being sent away when it was plain something mysterious was going on.

“I brought her here because we can help her,” Thor said stubbornly.

“She does not belong here in Asgard anymore than a goat belongs at a banquet table.”

Loki couldn’t help it, he snorted in a vain attempt to hold in his laughter. The action got him a harsh look from his Mother, but he was willing to take it, it wasn’t often that his Father would use such language, normally keeping his calm and regal air, even around people he disliked. Plus, there was something about watching his Father insult Jane that tickled at him, it was odd, but the mortal rubbed Loki up the wrong way.

Jane sat up, looking at Thor with a bewildered expression. “Did he just …?” she stopped her herself, the confusion turning to indignation as she turned to Odin. “Who do you think you are?”

“I am Odin. King of Asgard. Protector of the Nine Realms.”

Jane’s eyes widened a little, before schooling her expression into something resembling a polite smile. “Oh. Well, I’m -”

“I know very well who you are, Jane Foster,” Odin said dismissively. Jane blinked, glancing at Thor.

“You told your Dad about me?”

“Something is within her Father,” Thor opted not to answer the Midgardians question, instead keeping his attention on Odin. Loki thought it was a smart move, their Father was not in the mood to be dealing with Thor’s flites of fancy, not with the Jotun’s still in the palace and everyone on tenterhooks. “Something I have not seen before.”

“Her world has its healers, they are called doctors, let them deal with it. Guards!” the command was immediately responded to by two guards that had been waiting by the entrance to the Healing Hall, having followed their King into the room. “Take her back to Midgard.” He gestured at Jane, who was still sat on the Soul Forge in stunned silence.

The guards were quick to approach, even as Thor protested. Loki sighed, knowing that his Brother would be insufferable for days after this. But what else could Odin do? He was right in that Jane was a mortal and it was not right for Asgard to interfere with their affairs, at least not any more than they already had. Especially when it came to healing them. The Midgardians had to grow and advance on their own. It had been declared so since the ending of the Great War. Loki could only imagine what could happen if the resident Jotuns were to catch a glimpse of a mortal. It was said that there was no love for the weakest of the Nine Realms with those of the frozen realm. It was after all, the invasion of Midgard that caused them so much pain in the following years.

However just as the guards were about to take hold of Jane’s arms, no doubt to remove her from the Soul Forge, that Loki felt a surge of seidr. With his Mother’s bindings on his powers, it didn’t affect him like he knew it could, but it still made his headache and his teeth rattle. Loki only had time to register a firm arm wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into his Mother’s side when a red energy suddenly engulfed the mortal, hanging around her like a nimbus before sending the two guards flying back into the walls of the Healing Hall.

The silence which hung around them after the action was stifling. The healers that had remained in the room too frightened and confused about what had just happened to speak, while the guards remained motionless on the floor, clearly knocked out. Loki felt the seidr vanish as quick as it had appeared, but he could still feel the tingling aftermath. He looked at his Mother, completely unconcerned with how wide his eyes were, seeing as his Mother appeared just as shocked as she stared at the mortal woman, still sat on the Soul Forge. Odin remained in place, his face blank and impassive, but Loki thought he could see him gripping Gungnir tighter.

“Jane,” Thor was the first to break the tense atmosphere, rushing to the Midgardians side to kneel beside her. “Are you alright?”

Jane nodded, appearing just as confused as the rest of them. The tap of Gungnir against the stone floor had the pair fixing their attention on Odin, who had stepped closer and was peering at Jane with his one remaining eye. After a moment, his eyes widened and he gasped.

“That’s impossible.”

“The infection,” Frigga frowned, tentatively coming closer even as she kept her arm firmly in place around her younger son. “It’s defending her.”

“No, its defending itself,” Thor said.

Loki tilted his head at the strange answer. What kind of infection could defend itself?

“Come with me,” Odin suddenly ordered. He turned and swiftly marched out of the Healing Hall. Thor was quick to offer his hand to Jane, the pair following Odin out. Frigga sighed, took a moment to call help for the guards before fixing a stern eye on Loki.

Loki said nothing but looked at his Mother hopefully.

“Would you even go to your rooms if I told you to?” she asked and Loki bit his lip, weighing his options of how to answer, finally deciding to go with honesty, he’d never been good at lying to his Mother.

“I’d certainly tell you that’s what I’d done.”

Frigga shook her head before looking at him again. The arm giving him a squeeze.

“Very well, you may join us.” Loki beamed but his Mother was quick to reprimand him. “You will behave yourself and not cause trouble. I’m trusting you with this Loki.”

“Yes Mother.”

Frigga smiled a little when faced with her son’s enthusiasm. “Normally, you’d know what I would say about you being present for things like this. But it appears this may be a family matter, so we should face this together, as a family.”

“Of course, Mother,” Loki agreed. Whatever trouble Thor has gotten himself into, I’m sure we can sort it as a family.”

Frigga laughed, shifting her arm from around Loki’s shoulders to his arm, allowing him to grip it like he had been taught since he was a toddler, when he had first began his training in how to escort any of the young ladies of court when he attended banquets. And together they left the Healing Halls.

***

The Royal family retreated to the Royal quarters, mainly Odin’s private study, which Loki had only been in a few times in his life. It was a beautiful, yet simple space. There was none of the grand elegance of the rest of the palace. The walls were a warm cream colour, the furniture made of soft wood, that glowed in the low light of the torches. A comfy sofa made of leather was pushed into one corner, a small table to its left. Other bits and pieces of furniture, mainly tables or cabinets stood in the other corners. Loki’s eyes were instantly drawn to the wall to ceiling bookcase. The Young Prince knew his Father loved to read, it was one of the things the pair had bonded over in the last two years, in their attempt to repair their relationship. But Loki had never thought that Odin’s collection would be this far reaching. He was sure he caught sight of a couple of titles that were Midgardian in nature. A large window was set behind a desk which housed scattered papers, probably the many documents Odin was forced to read through at the request of the Council of Nine.

Odin retreated behind his desk, but didn’t take a seat in the chair, which was waiting invitingly. Instead he banished Gungnir from his hand, so it appeared in a convenient stand that was hidden just out of sight behind the desk. He looked out of the window, seeming to contemplate the view of Asgard. Loki stuck to his Mother’s side, while Thor and Jane congregated at the sofa, the God of Thunder fussing over the mortal even as she smiled teasingly at him. The sight of the pair of them together made Loki sneer. Thor should be next to him and his Mother, so they could deal with this together.

“There are relics that predate the universe itself,” Odin’s sudden voice gained the attention of everyone in the room. “What lies within the Midgardian appears to be one of them. The Nine Realms are not eternal. They had a dawn and they will have a dusk.”

Loki felt a swell of seidr and a book left the confines of the book case to hover in the centre of the room, flipping open of its own accord. Loki recognised the sharp taste of his Father’s seidr. It was not something Loki knew that solely belonged to his Father, the seidr of Asgard is what gave Odin most of his power, which is what granted it the overwhelming notes of raw power. But underneath Loki could still sense the spicy undertones of his Father’s own unique seidr and the will which directed the overwhelming force to do as he wished.

“But before that dawn the dark forces, the Dark Elves, reigned absolute and unchallenged.”

Loki frowned, Dark Elves? Where had he heard that name before?

“ _Born from eternal night, the Dark Elves comes to steal away your light._ ” Thor, who had approached the hovering book read the words on the designated page carefully. His brow was furrowed as he looked from the book to his Father. “Mother used to tell these stories to me as a child.”

At Thor’s observation Loki’s mind suddenly clicked into place. Of course, how could he have been so stupid. The Dark Elves, the story of Bor, it used to be one of his favourites as a little boy.

“Their leader, Malekith found a weapon out of that darkness,” Odin went on. “It was called the Aether. While the other relics often appeared as stones, the Aether is fluid and ever changing. It changes matter into dark matter and seeks out host bodies, drawing strength from their life force. Malekith sort to use the Aether’s power to return the universe to one of darkness. But after years of bloodshed, my Father Bor, finally triumphed, ushering in the peace that lasted thousands of years.”

The quiet which proceeded the story was one all were reluctant to break. But eventually Jane, shifting nervously from foot to foot asked. “What happened?”

“He killed them all.”

Loki flinched, heart rate spiking at the softly spoken words. He stared at his Father’s back as he continued to look out across Asgard. Unable to comprehend he turned to look up at his Mother, whose head was bowed low, but the grip on his hand which she had refused to let go of was tight. Loki sucked in a deep steadying breath. He remembered the stories Mother used to tell of his Grandfather Bor’s victories. They had sounded so exiting, thrilling. Then there were the stories his Father had shared, of Bor and Bestla and their lives and laughter together. It was hard to reconcile the image he had created from those stories, with the darker aspects that were now being shoved under his nose.

“Are you certain?” Thor asked, eyes flicking as he read the book further. “It says here that the Aether was said to be destroyed with them and yet here it is.”

“The Dark Elves are dead,” Odin simply stated.

“Does your book mention how to get it out of me?” Jane questioned hopefully.

“No, it does not,” Odin answered. “Many of the mysteries of the Aether have been lost to time. My Father Bor, thought it was best not to advertise what the Dark Elves had been using as their weapon and had much of the knowledge forgotten.”

“That was a bit stupid of him,” Jane muttered.

“He was thinking to the future. The generations after him and did his best to protect them,” Odin snapped.

Jane’s cheeks tinted and Thor was quick to comfort her. Loki watched his Father, shoulders tense as he refused to turn and face them.

“It would appear that it might be best then, that Jane stay here for the time being,” Frigga deftly stepped in, doing her best to dissipate the tension. “The Aether is a power relic, that we should be wary of. I’m sure that, given time, our healers and possibly some of our Seidrmasters, could find something which could help.”

Loki did his best not to say what was on the tip of his tongue. It was especially difficult when Thor placed and arm around Jane’s waist, smiling hopefully at his Mother and the mortal.

“The Midgardian should not be on Asgard,” Odin said. “It would be best if we simply sent her home.”

“Father,” Thor began to protest, but Frigga quickly stepped in. extracting herself from Loki she crossed to her husband, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Loki saw instantly the tension leave his posture, though he still remained in place, an immovable figure locked in a moment Loki didn’t really understand.

“I believe it might be best to wait, my dear husband. We would not want the Aether to cause any more trouble on Midgard. It is safest here, and until we find a way to extract it from her, so would Jane.”

Odin snorted, face turning a little to look at his wife. Frigga was smiling, but it was one full of cunning and mischief, one many had told Loki that he shared with his Mother. After a brief stalemate, Odin sighed.

“I see the wisdom of your words, my wife. Very well,” he turned, fixing Jane and Thor with his one remaining eye. “The mortal can stay for now, but she is not to leave the royal quarters.”

“We can’t keep her a prisoner Father,” Thor protested.

“Nor should we parade her around for everyone to see. Do you forget that the Jotun delegation is still here? I will not have these talks impeded by the presence of a mortal.”

“What’s a Jotun?” Jane asked nervously.

“They are beings from another realm, Jane,” Thor explained. “The frozen realm of Jotunheim. This is the first delegation to come to Asgard since the beginning of the Great War. It is a historic time.”

“Great War? What war? You never said you were at war?”

“This war was many years ago, over a thousand. Asgard and Jotunheim fought over many things, but a particular issue was when Jotunheim invaded Midgard. Asgard drove them from your shores and defeated them.”

Jane stared up at Thor, wonderment and awe clear on her face. Loki shook his head at Thor’s lacklustre explanation.

“The Jotun’s have no love for Midgardians because of that,” Loki said. “And right now, the King of Jotunheim is within our halls. What do you think his response would be if he saw you?”

Loki wished he could have enjoyed the fright which passed over Jane’s face, but the stern look his Mother gave him had him looking at his boots.

“Oh, I … I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble,” Jane muttered.

“It is far to late for that, but we can at least limit it,” Odin said. “The mortal will stay in the royal quarters. Thor, I expect you to be at the banquet tonight, try and clean up the mess you made by missing the meeting with the Jotun’s this afternoon.”

“I…yes Father,” Thor said in defeat.

Odin waved a hand and the book which had still been hovering in the centre of the room slammed shut, taking itself back to its place on the bookshelf. Odin turned back to the window; the dismissal clear.

Frigga sighed, then turned and began herding the two Princes and mortal out of the room. Once the door was firmly closed Frigga smiled at Jane.

“Please forgive my husband for his harsh words. Things are rather tense at the palace right now and he is having a hard time keeping everything in order.”

“It’s alright,” Jane said, returning the smile with a small one of her own. “I’ve dealt with assho…I mean, stressed people before. I’m sure he’s not normally like that.” 

Frigga nodded her head, “indeed. Thor, it would be best if you placed Jane in your quarters for now, but I expect you to take the spare room in your brother’s this evening after the banquet.”

“Mother,” Thor hissed, and Loki let out quiet cackle at the blush which threatened to colour his elder brother’s cheeks. His amusement earned him a glare, but Thor was forced to do little else as he agreed with his Mother. Gallantly he offered Jane his arm. The mortal giggled, placing her arm through the much larger limb, both turning and making their way through Odin’s quarters and out so they could head for Thor’s own.

Loki watched them go, both too absorbed in the other to even bother turning around. Something in his chest stung at the sight of the pair of them together. It made his fists clench and his eyes narrow, especially on the mortal, Jane’s, back.

A gentle arm came around his shoulders, “do not scowl so, my little one, it does not suit you.”

“I’m not scowling,” Loki denied, turning his attention to his Mother, who glanced from where Thor and Jane had disappeared back to Loki.

“Your brother is distracted; it will pass once they grow used to one another again.”

“She is mortal, what is there to get used to?” Loki grumbled.

Frigga’s arm tightened and she frowned at him. “Thor cares for her, he is entitled to his joy.”

“But her life is but a blink of an eye for us,” Loki argued, that bitter feeling making his mouth run away with him. “I won’t even be full grown by the time she is old and grey. What hope does Thor have to have joy with her?”

Frigga shook her head, seeming to ignore the tone Loki used. “It is his life; he has the right to do what he wishes with it. Our duty as his family is to be here when he needs us. We will always support one another.”

Loki forced himself not to argue further, instead nodding his head. Frigga smiled and began leading him back to his own quarters, chattering about the banquet, the preparations and the gossip being spread by the palace staff with all the nobles in attendance. Loki grinned and added a word or question here and there. But his mind was elsewhere, on Thor and the mortal, and how the Midgardian might just be taking his brother away from him.

***

Loki squirmed in his seat at the high table in the great hall of the Palace of Asgard. He’d been sat there for over two hours and he was starting to get restless. The banquet itself had gone ahead splendidly. Thor had arrived ahead of time to entre the banquet hall with Odin, Frigga and Loki. The two eldest males had a tense air between them, barely speaking, but Frigga did a wonderful job of intermediary. Her self-appointed duty had not let up when they had entered the hall, the Queen having strategically placed herself between her husband and eldest son. That left Loki on Odin’s other side, it was not a position that he usually took, the place beside the King usually reserved for either the Queen or the Crown Prince. Loki couldn’t help the excitement of sitting in such a position, especially when his Father smiled secretively at him. It was something he would certainly enjoy lording over Thor when things were more settled.

Once the royal family was in attendance the Jotun delegation was announced. Loki had grown used to the large blue creatures dominating any room they came into by now. But many of the nobles who had not been in their presence over much gaped, especially at the tall figure of Angrboða, who towered even over her King. Helblindi himself looked as regal as always, with his jewel encrusted horns shining in the torch light as he, Angrboða and Thrym marched up to the high table and bowed to Odin.

“AllFather,” Helblindi had greeted.

“King Helblindi, I would be honoured if you would join me and my family,” Odin gestured at the seats on either side of Thor and Loki, specially made to seat the Jotun’s larger frame.

“We would be honoured to accept,” Helblindi replied, quickly taking the place beside Thor, Angrboða at his side, while Thrym took the place beside Loki.

With the pleasantries over with, Odin had announced the feast open and the music began, and the food was brought out. Loki had been able to ignore the closeness of the Jotun, able to lose himself in his food, though that didn’t stop his observations.

Thor was talking with Helblindi, smiling and laughing in all the right places, but Loki could see the faraway look which kept passing over his brother’s face, no doubt thinking about his mortal back in his rooms. Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him. Thor was being overly dramatic in his opinion. So, what if the mortal was ill, she was mortal, it was not as though Thor could spare her illness for the rest of her life. Plus, she would wither and die before anything more than a casual dalliance could be made out of their time together.

Frigga fixed her attention on Angrboða, happily chatting with the Jotun seidr user, though Loki was aware how his Mother’s gaze still flicked from her conversation. Checking on Thor, Odin and Loki himself. The Young Prince was happy to see his Mother having such a good time. There had been much stress for their household as of late and Loki was pleased that finally his Mother could release a fraction of the tension she seemed to be carrying around with her.

Odin remained on his throne, greeting any nobles that dared to venture his way during the meal. Loki had thought that Odin would have at least spoken to Thrym, who was the closest Jotun to the King. But neither appeared in the mood to speak to one another, especially with the way Thrym kept sending Odin dark looks if the King of Asgard even glanced in his direction.

Eventually the food was consumed and peopled moved to more joyous activities. The dancing began in earnest and Helblindi was quickly offered a dance by one of the few braver maidens that had been eyeing the young King speculatively during the meal. Loki watched as the Jotun King beamed, his hand managing to somehow delicately take the much smaller offered limb and lead the woman, whom he dwarfed, out onto a cleared space of the banquet hall and beginning to dance rather gracefully.

Thor followed suit and soon Loki could hear his booming laughter. Frigga, after introducing a rather shy looking Angrboða to a few of the seidr users in attendance, did her usual rounds before disappearing from sight, no doubt to check how the servants and staff were faring. Loki had given Leif the night off, though he was sure that his Valet had been roped into helping his Mother with the banquet preparations. The Young Prince made a mental note to go easier on his Valet come the morning, expecting a bleary-eyed Leif to greet him as his Mother would have run him ragged all night.

And that was how Loki found himself in the uncomfortable position at the High table. A part of him wanted to head down into the banquet, not necessarily to mingle, though there were some great opportunities for mischief in settings such as these. But on the other, Loki would much prefer to stay put as there was less chance that older nobles would take the opportunity to pinch his cheeks and call him cute while he was in such proximity to his Father, who was preoccupied with several members of the Council, who had taken Thor, Frigga, Angrboða and Helblindi’s places.

Sighing Loki ran a hand through his hair.

“That’s a rather mournful sound to be coming from someone so young.”

Loki jumped at the deep voice which came from beside him. Turning he stared wide eyed at Thrym. The Jotun was slumped in his chair, his large, though stocky frame filling the seat, arms sprawled over the sides even while one of his hands cradled a goblet, that was bigger than even the serving dishes, filled with what Loki was sure was some form of alcohol. Loki did his best, but he wasn’t sure he was able to fully stop the shudder which went through him as red eyes fixed on him.

“You find things such as these tedious to?”

Unable to think of a way to avoid answering the question, Loki dug deep, shoving his trepidation and lingering fear aside, he swallowed and said. “Aye. All they do is dance and get drunk. Where’s the fun in that?”

Loki did not expect the laugh which passed the Jotun’s lips. It was rasping, as though the action was not something that had been done for a long time. “True enough little Prince. But I think you’ll find, once you’ve put on a few years, how deeply fun it is to get completely pissed. Especially when surrounded by the group which blesses us with their presence today.”

Loki scowled, “I’m not little.” The words only made the Jotun Lord laugh all the more. Before Loki could argue the point further Thrym silenced him by bringing up his goblet as though in a toast.

“So I see. Very well. A toast to your maturity, Prince Loki. May it be something which you find as fiendish as all those that came before you.” Loki furrowed his brow in confusion at the statement even as Thrym threw back his head and devoured his alcohol, some drippling from the corners of his mouth. Loki watched in horrified fascination as Thrym finished the drink, before slamming it onto the table.

“One of the few things that Asgardians can do right. By the Norns I’ve missed Asgardian ale.”

“You’ve been to Asgard before?” Loki ventured the question carefully. Thrym grunted, signalling for one of the servants to re-fill his glass.

“Aye, though it was many years ago now. Back in the time when Bor was still King.”

“You knew my Grandfather?”

“Not at all,” Thrym laughed. “He was the King of Asgard, and I was just a young buck back then. A Lords son with far too much time on his hands,” Thrym leaned back to stare at the ceiling. “Father thought sending me to the garrison posted on Asgard would get me to grow up a bit. I still think he was mad, but I certainly enjoyed making my way through your collection of ales. I don’t know how you have the time to make so many.”

Thrym laughed again, face soft and eyes far away. Loki bit his lip then asked. “What about my Grandmother? You ever meet her?”

Thrym hummed, shooting Loki a shrewd look over his goblet. “Aye, she always made a point to stop by the garrison every now and then. See how the new recruits were settling in. Asgard is mighty different from Jotunheim after all. Some of us found the temperature transition difficult.”

“Difficult?”

“Jotun’s can change their body temperature, but for youngsters that can take time and the heat of Asgard can be unforgiving to some of us. Why all the questions may I ask? Surely this is something you can get from your own Father.”

Loki fidgeted as those assessing eyes pierced him. “No reason, just curious and Father does tend to leave things out.”

“Like any decent parent should.”

“Did you know my Father well from back then?” Loki dared to ask. “You act as if you have a history.”

Thrym chuckled, but it was a dark and bitter sound. “Oh, we have history. You probably can’t tell but we’re around the same age. Odin didn’t age well, unlike myself. Your Father did some of his training at the Jotun garrison, Princes back then had to split their time between all the garrisons from the other realms, it made Asgard look diplomatic.”

“You trained together?”

“Aye, if you call bashing each other’s heads in training.”

Thrym laughed, chugging back yet more alcohol. Loki waited until he had wiped his mouth before asking. “Did you fight on any campaigns together.”

“Several. The Nine realms, while peaceful still had its dangers. Beings that didn't care what realms laws they broke. Your Father and I served on the same frontal assault squad when we were young.” Thrym took another drink, then split his mouth so that he sent a smirk Loki’s way. “He was a wet behind the ears Prince who didn’t know his head from his arse back then.”

Loki giggled at the description of his Father, he’d never heard anyone describe him as such in all of his life, even the generals that had been by his side for years. Thrym nestled the goblet close to him, seeming to slump even more into his chair as he contemplated the dances and revellers enjoying themselves in the banquet hall.

“It was a different time then,” he said.

Loki watched the Jotun, now that he had spent time talking to him, he noted how his fear, though not completely gone, had dulled to just a whisper in the back of his mind. Most likely overridden by the curiosity which ate at him. Taking a quick peek behind him, Loki noted how Odin was still in deep discussion with his Council, not having noticed that his younger son was even still beside him. Looking back at the relaxed Jotun, who was already deep into his cups Loki weighed his options. Perhaps this was an opportunity to get some answers to some far more personal questions.

“Lord Thrym?”

“Hmm?”

“I have a question, if you do not mind me asking.”

“Go right ahead little Prince. I have all the time in the world until this dreadful banquet is over.” He snorted in annoyance. “Asgardians and their feasts, always looking for an excuse to show off.”

Loki clenched his fists, ignoring the one small corner of his mind which screamed at him not to do this. That it was too risky. But he just couldn’t stop himself, he needed to know.

“Have you ever heard of small Jotuns? Jotuns around the size of an Asgardian maybe? I know it might sound farfetched, but I …”

The slam of the goblet hitting the table was the only warning Loki got before his vision was taken up by Thrym’s face as he leaned close, so much so that Loki thought their faces would be touching.

“Where did you hear such a thing?” Thrym demanded, all trances of the previous alcohol induced haze gone. Loki jerked back and spluttered.

“I…I read it somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I d…don’t remember.”

“Try!”

Loki squeaked, fear making him want to run, but also not giving his body the adrenaline in which to scamper away. He stared with wide frightened eyes up at the Jotun that was now towering over him. Images of another Jotun doing so filled his mind. One that was willing to kill him, would kill him. Loki’s breath caught and the corners of his green eyes began to water as he held back tears.

The sight of them seemed to jolt Thrym from his irate anger. He blinked, his own red eyes bulging in realisation as he leaned back. “I’m sorry Prince Loki, I didn’t mean -”

“What is going on here, Lord Thrym?”

A large, warm, familiar hand landed on Loki’s shoulder. The Young Prince let out a relieved breath as his Father came up behind his chair, standing over his son and before the Jotun.

“Odin, I -”

“Loki are you well?” the soft enquiry had Loki looking up into the concerned face of his Father. At the sight of the tears, Odin’s one remaining eyes narrowed, and his hand tightened on Loki’s shoulder.

“Thrym, what did you do to my son?” Odin demanded. Thrym scowled already puffing up and ready to argue. Loki knew in that moment that unless he did something, the work that had been done so far to bring Jotunheim and Asgard back together would be undone. He remembered Helblindi’s hopeful face and even Thrym’s nostalgic look as he talked of his time on Asgard. He couldn’t let this put all that work to an end. 

Swiftly bringing up a hand Loki wiped his eyes in a vain attempt to hide his tears.

“Father I’m fine,” he said, instantly bringing the aging King’s attention on himself. “Lord Thrym startled me is all. Brought back bad memories.”

Thrym flinched though Odin didn’t move, face impassive as he scrutinised his son. Finally, he sighed. “If you are sure, my son.”

“Yes.”

“Very well,” but instead of turning away he fixed a hard eye in Thrym. “Though in the future, Lord Thrym should be aware of how he speaks and the consequences that will follow such actions.”

“Father.”

“I understand, King Odin,” Thrym said, eclipsing Loki’s attempt to argue. “I let my temper run away with me. It is a lapse that I should never have allowed to happen. Please accept my sincerest apologies Prince Loki.” Thrym stood, before falling to his knees in a deep bow, just like the one Helblindi did when they first met. Not wanting to draw too much attention to the scene, Loki quickly reassured Thrym of his acceptance of his apology.

The old Jotun Lord pushed himself back to standing. “You are wise for one so young. It brings hope to this jaded Jotun’s heart.” He cast an unreadable look at Odin. “Today’s youth truly are our salvation.”

Odin nodded and Thrym bowed low once again, but before he could rise Loki heard him whisper.

“About your question. Do not go around asking Angrboða or Norns forbid the King such a thing. It is our greatest shame.”

Thrym left, leaving a confused Loki behind. He gaped, unable to understand exactly what Thrym meant by his last words. Greatest shame? What did that mean? And did he actually insinuate that there really are small born Jotuns? But why are they not mentioned anywhere and why would Thrym call them their greatest shame?

His Father’s hand squeezed his shoulder, bringing him out of his spiralling thoughts.

“I should not have left you alone with him. I forgot how quick Thrym was to anger. He always had trouble reining it in.”

“It’s alright Father,” Loki said, pushing the swarm of questions and emotions aside for now. It did no good to dwell on them, he would have to talk with his Mother later and get her thoughts. She had often said that Loki had a habit of letting his mind jump to the worst scenarios when left to wander. “It was just a shock.”

“A shock you should not have had.”

“I was really enjoying talking to him before that,” and Loki was surprised to find that he wasn’t lying about that statement. “He spoke of his time on Asgard when Jotunheim still had a garrison here. He said you were in the same frontal attack squad when you were younger.”

Loki smirked at the sight of the slight blush that decorated Odin’s cheeks at the mention of the squad. “He talked about that did he?”

“Yep. And how you were a wet behind the ears Prince.”

“Well he wasn’t much better,” Odin huffed. “A Lords lazy youngest son who thought he could get away with doing the bare minimum, especially if he’d been out drinking the night before. I swear I dragged that Jotun out of nearly all the taverns in Asgard. He’d have missed training overwise.”

Loki giggled, “sounds like you were good friends.”

“We were.”

“Wat happened?”

Odin sighed, shaking his head. “Laufey. When he finally took the throne from his Father one of the first orders he made was to disassemble the garrisons that had been put in place across the Nine. Of course, there were appeals, but the Jotun could not go against a direct order from their King. Then the war and Thrym and I … well things fell apart. I think he blamed me for the war partially.”

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Asgard didn’t have to get involved. None of the Nine did, it’s not as though Laufey invaded one of our realms, it was Midgard. A small, backwards realm with very little intelligent life at the time. I could have left Laufey to his own devices, but the King of Asgard swears to protect all the Nine Realms, I couldn’t just let Laufey do as he pleased. Plus, there were the politics of it all.”

“Politics?”

“That can wait until you are a bit older,” Odin laughed as he ruffled Loki’s hair, much to the Young Prince’s annoyance.

“Father,” he whined, which did nothing to dampen his Father’s amusement. Loki noted that the Council members that had been at the High table were gone, most likely having been dismissed by Odin before his Father intervened between him and Thrym.

Loki looked out at the hall, soaking in the atmosphere, along with the sight of the three large Jotun’s in their midst. He wondered just what it would have been like if there had been no war. Would Jotun’s mingle with the people of Asgard so that their presence was hardly noticed? Would Loki feel safe to walk around in his birth skin, content that he would be accepted no matter what he looked like. It was a dream, one that Loki thought for a long time could never come to pass, but now a swell of hope rose inside him. Perhaps, maybe, it would come true.

“Why don’t you go and join your Brother, Loki,” Odin started to say. “I’m sure he will need -”

The sudden loud blaring of an alarm shattered the celebrations. Loki flinched at the nose, leaning into Odin’s side, who clutched his son tight to him in response.

“Father what is that?” Loki asked, though it was barely heard over the panicked chattering of the nobles and guests. Before Odin could answer the banquet hall doors were thrown open and a guard fell inside. Blood dribbled from a cut in his forehead, though that wasn’t what had people screaming. No, it was the sword protruding from his side which caused the fear and panic to begin to build.

“P…prisoners. The prisoners have escaped,” the guard announced before crashing to the floor, unmoving.


End file.
